


Between Songs

by Dreamer_88



Category: Shefani
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Musicians, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 89,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_88/pseuds/Dreamer_88
Summary: Oh, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legendsI'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heavenIf there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyesI know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight.
Relationships: Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani
Comments: 245
Kudos: 260





	1. The Artist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as clarification, these are pictures of what the Lake House compound looks like.

±

He remembers the day perfectly.

Sun-kissed white clouds blossomed in the blue, free to fly with the wind. In the long horizon they took on silver hues, those deeper graphite tones that promised good rain. For some reason the sky made him uneasy that day; painting the world in a darker, more dense imagery. The gloom outside had transitioned into his mood.

Life had been dissatisfying and weird lately and he couldn’t pretend like meeting another up and coming artist was something he was particularly excited about.

The company’s tendency of renting these gorgeous Lake houses for occasions like this didn’t help his sense of disassociating.

He believed strongly in the magic of this industry and the healing powers of music. Make no mistake, he had known what he was in for when he fought like hell to become the founder of the big record label. He had moved to LA after struggling to get his own label off the ground in Nashville. Warner Records had become a home for him immediately after moving out to the big city, and it took him no longer than two years to go from his entry level position to the label executive. At this angle, he was able to work on the business side of an industry that he’d always had tremendous intrigue and respect for, all while embodying the needs and expectations of his artists. It was a good deal and made him an even better business man.

Rain was continuing to pour down the heavy and dark Californian sky and his hands had been impatiently rubbing against each other while he waited for this artist who was supposedly ‘gonna blow his socks off and render him speechless.”

The label knew of Blake’s hands-on approach. He didn’t just coach these artists behind the scenes; he played music with them, wrote with them, spent studio time together. He wanted to be more than the man who gave them an umbrella to play their art under. He wanted to help create the very thing that saved his life so many times – _music_.

He’s lost a few pounds and his hair had lost a bit of brown that used to colour his tamed locks. He let his facial hair get a little less trimmed around his cheeks and chin, but still remained with a clean and lean physical appearance. He hadn’t felt like taking advantage of what he knew and experienced to be true, but he wasn’t completely unaware of his own charisma.

He couldn’t say he never let the way women perceived him work in his favour, but any meaningless sexual encounters had stopped when he got married four years ago.

It proved to be better that way; less people meant less disappointments.

That’s what he thought _she_ would be too. A new artist, hungry for a break that she didn’t really deserve. He sees those types of artist all the time—maybe even more often than he sees the opposite. Most people he meets do not get the break they so desperately think they deserve. It’s the least appealing part of his job; meeting these youngsters who are still so pure and naïve and haven’t yet encountered the most brutal of rejections. While he always tries dressing it up nicely, there’s no denying he’s been that rejection for more than a handful of these artist. His jaw flexed with tension at the thought of having to do it again today.

Then _she_ had walked in.

Her blonde hair flowing freely over her shoulders and her locks fell in a perfect linear line, letting him know that she must’ve straightened it by her own hands. Nothing that perfect ever comes easy.

Every artist he ever met for the first time had tried to impress him by dressing up fancy, but not her.

She had opted for a simple greenish polkadot dress, that accentuated her slim physique without necessarily hugging her tightly anywhere else. She had been a breath of fresh air.

The expression on her face was hard to read, masked by nervous and youthful excitement. He tried guessing her age while gauging her up, his own calculations convincing him she couldn’t be older than twenty five—and even that was a reach.

He had recognized the passion and deluged look in her eyes as something he owned himself once.

Ten years ago, when he was her same age.

It had been too much. They hadn’t even finished their round of introducing her to the various men and women in the room, when he had faked an important phone call. His hand had waved apologetically in front of his chest before he excused himself.

He needed a minute.

±

He continued flicking through the pages of her repertoire, her songs, her information. It was a bit maddening, the way he knew about this girl without ever actually speaking to her.

He had disappeared back into his office in the large lake house. The space rented by his company would be his home for the next two months, where he’ll be expected to find and nurture the label’s new biggest artist. It’s a getaway he does every few years, every time becoming less ideal. Not many still harboured faith in his ability to sculpt and water talent like he’s done so ferociously and naturally in the past. He had waved away his assistant when she offered him some food, not at all hungry for anything he could consume in that way. It’s not until he hears footsteps approach him that he abandons the files he’d been given. He didn’t need her to speak to know who was let into the otherwise vacant room.

“Gwen Renée Stefani.” He smiled, disregarding the pile of papers and standing up from behind the large desk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The girl looked a bit timid standing in front of him, but she corrected herself before he could properly memorize the way it looked. As if she quickly berated herself for coming off too shy, she regained her composure and faked a rather convincing show of confidence on her face.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Shelton.” She grabbed his hand in a firm handshake.

“Blake. Please call me Blake.” He informed her, taking notice of the shy smile gracing her lips before she nodded. “I want to apologize for my behaviour earlier, I promise you’ve got my undivided attention. I’ve read through a bit of your resume, it’s quite impressive.”

_Gwen Renée Stefani. 25 years old, born and raised in Orange County, California. Had gotten her start in an underground band when she was 17. Band got dismantled after record deal fell through when she was 21 and spent the last four years of her life playing solo gigs and appearing on the radars of multiple labels and executives._

He wondered what her reason was for never signing a deal with any of them.

“Thank you.” She blushed. “I honestly haven’t done that much yet. It’s hard figuring out how to do this professionally without losing the thing that matters the most.”

“Which is?”

“My love for music.” She had said simply. “I’m honestly quite boring. I probably shouldn’t be saying that—”

She looked around the room as if she was about to get reprimanded for saying the wrong thing.

“I don’t think boring comes close to describing you.”

He didn’t know what made him say it, but it felt like the only thing he _could_ say to such a wrongful statement. He didn’t know her at all, but simply by looking at her he knew it would be utterly impossible for there to be any truth to what she had said.

This girl has a quality that he only comes across rarely. It makes the tingles in his body feel like electrical shocks and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. He knows it, after working in this business for over a decade, when he’s in the presence of a musical force.

“I just want to make music.” She admitted, biting her lip. “I want to do this thing big but I wanna do it while creating the art I want to make and wear the clothes I want to wear.”

Blake had nodded.

“Sounds like you’ve had to say that little speech far too often.”

The younger girl had nodded her head honestly and scoffed.

“I’m sorry, my manager said that I really should take this opportunity but every label I’ve met with so far is more interested in the idea of me than the actual artist I am. I know you’re probably incredibly busy and I wouldn’t want to waste your time. I thought it would be best to just be as straight forward as could be.”

She said it near a whisper, without the fury he expected the statement to carry. Her chin jutted up to meet his stare and it was clear to him then that he had to know more about her.

“I have an idea.” He’d pitched. “Why don’t you stay at this accommodation for a few nights, share some of your works with me and continue negotiations with the staff? You wouldn’t be tied down to any obligations and if you feel like a big machine behind you isn’t the way to go, you’re always free to make that call. No matter how much time you choose to spend here.”

His Lake House is part of a compound that houses several apartment complexes meant for the staff, executives and whatever artist they choose to invest time in that year. The team of writers will stay on the other end of the premises in case she cares to stay long enough to join a writer’s camp.

“For how long would I stay?” She asked.

“We stay here for a total of two months; you’d stay for one. If you decide earlier that you don’t want to sign with us or we feel like the fit just isn’t right, you’d leave right after making that decision.”

“Why do I only stay for one month, if you’re here for two?”

“The other month is spend doing a lot of business talk.” He winked. “It’s not at all interesting for the artist to still be here by then as the whole introduction trajectory would be over and all staff will be in negotiation mode.”

“Even when I say no?”

It became clear to him that she didn’t give the possibility of the label sending her home much thought and something about that delighted him. It was as if her insecure demeanour wouldn’t always hold up and she showed this unfamiliar poise and confidence that was unknown to many pre- break out artists.

“Even more so when you say no.” Blake responded. “In that case we’ll be trying to figure out what our next steps are gonna be. No one wants to go home empty handed.”

Her chest rose and fell under his gaze and he could tell she was nervously debating herself on taking the opportunity he presented her with.

“I didn’t pack for a whole month.”

He couldn’t help but smile when realizing she was leaning towards taking it. He had crossed his arms across his chest and offered her a simple shrug.

“I can have a car bring you back so you can pack your things. You’d be able to move in to one of the rooms by tonight.”

“Just like that?”

Her tone had been neutral and it was a stark contrast to the either nervous or excited tenor of her voice. She was on the fence and distrusting and it plastered over her features.

“Just like that. We ask a lot from you here, the least we can do is make sure you’re comfortable while figuring all this stuff out.”

“What about expanses?”

“Taken care of.”

“For the whole month?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. We will ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement to restrict you from sharing confidential material such as negotiations and any art created here.”

She batted her lashes. “I won’t be able to share any music I make here?”

“Since any music made here is funded by this label, it isn’t permitted for it to be made public without their consent.”

“Would that change if I sign with you?”

“Depends on what’s in your contract. But I’m not here to work against my artists, Gwen. If you make any music here that you’re proud of and want to share with the world, I will make that happen and the songs will be yours as will be portrayed in the deal you sign.”

She suddenly appeared more hopeful.

“Am I your artist now?”

“Not officially, no.” He said, in slight awe of her fearlessness in asking whatever was on her mind. “But I don’t half-ass anything. If I work with you here, I’m gonna treat you like you are. You’ll have access to all the best materials, musicians and sound systems. All I ask is that you take it equally as serious.”

Gwen exhaled deeply.

“I want to do it.”

Blake smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just to be clear, anything I record here will be the label’s, but whatever I write on my own will remain just mine?”

“We don’t monitor what or when you write, if that’s what you’re askin’.” He’d chuckled. “Yes, whatever you write is yours. It’s about what you record here in these studios that’s ours.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“So when can the car drop me back off at home to go get my stuff?”

±

“You think you can take the night off tomorrow and actually have dinner with me?” Aubrey asks without any animosity there.

She smiles while taking off her obnoxiously overpriced watch and walks into the adjacent bathroom in nothing but her robe.

“Darling, you know I hate to miss dinner.”

He hears the sound of his wife rinsing and spitting in the sink, brushing her teeth, while he waits for her in bed.

“Then don’t miss it.” She smiles a few minutes later after making it back into the bedroom. “We’re gonna be out here for two months before all the craziness back home begins again. Let’s enjoy this time away from the metropolitan madness.”

He can’t help but grin as she closes the distance between them and slides under the covers with him. She had left her robe on the wall hanger and straddles him naked, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“You do know I’m working here, right?” He asks softly, hands kneading through her almond coloured hair. “I can’t just treat this getaway like a vacation.”

“And I’m your wife….” She whispers against his cheek. “You can’t treat me like a stranger.”

He grunts when her hands softly massage his shoulders and then move lower to his chest. She pushes him so he’s lying flat on his back and lately it seems like making love is all they’re good for. He knows they should talk about what happened more often, but somehow this was easier.

“I’m sorry.” He says, biting back a moan when she bites at his neck. “I don’t want to make you feel like that, you know that Bree.”

She stretches out above him. “There is a way you can redeem yourself…”

His hands move to her lower back and flip her to lay next to him. He knows it’s not the appreciated move but he’s actually too tired to play pretend tonight.

“By fuckin’ you till you forget how disappointed you are in me?” He chuckles against the soft skin of her cheek. “Let’s not do that this time.”

Their gazes are locked while his wife looks a little dazed, her hand dragging through her hair.

“You need to try harder.”

“I won’t miss dinner tomorrow.” He says while disguising the sick feeling in his stomach that he gets from hearing her words. “I promise.”

Aubrey nods and turns on her back, eyes trained to the ceiling.

“How are things going with Gwen?”

It’s a lot harder talking about Gwen to his wife than he thought it would be. The words get stuck in his throat while he thinks about the young artist. He loves working with her and she’s gotten way more comfortable with the whole idea after her first week went smoothly. She’s writing daily and uses the studio assigned to her almost as often. The first time he heard her sing was a painful day for him, but it got smoothed over by the soft look on her face as she talked about her inspirations with him. He’s finding out that he feels a strong pull to her as a person, coupled with the instant connection he felt to her music. He thinks this partnership could work and hopes she’s willing to sign to his label by the end of it all. What he does here with Gwen is work though and he finds it hard to share that with his wife. His business is sacred and he’s too petrified of what would happen if he decided to mix the only part of his life that’s going well with the one that’s going the worst.

“She’s doing great. She wrote a few great songs yesterday. It was fun getting to hear what motivated her to write these lyrics.”

His wife purses her lips.

“I know the kind of music you like. How many deep and _alluring_ lyrics could possibly come from such a young and inexperienced girl?”

He half expected something like that to come out of her mouth. Aubrey was born into a wealthy family of psychiatrist and archaeologists. She wasn’t musical and though she supported Blake’s business, she never truly understood it.

“She’s spent four years getting rejected and tossed around in the music industry. Everyone who’s spend that many years in this business knows something about pain and heartbreak.”

“Is that what she writes about?” His wife asks.

“Sometimes.”

It actually had surprised him how little she wrote about the heartbreaks of the industry or her hardships in general. She seemed to have a neck for spotting the beauty in things even when they were undeniably ugly. She has a way of writing about despair and longing so hopefully, it distracts him from the fact he’s listening to her pain at all. He feels like he hears her dreams when he listens to her and he’s filled with the urge to nurture those into reality.

“I see.” Aubrey declares. “You don’t want to talk about work.”

Blake moves onto his back as well, sighing deeply.

“I usually don’t.” He replies. “You usually don’t ask me about these artists either.”

“What can I say. She’s young, passionate and beautiful, ticking exactly all your boxes. I can’t _not_ ask you about her now, can I?”

Blake snorts. “That’s what this is about? You’re jealous?”

“Not jealous. _Aware_. I’m not jealous because I know she would never be enough for you and you need to be met on a certain level that we both know she can’t do. But I know your tendency to flee when you’re feeling bad and she’s the most gorgeous escape. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get lost.”

It takes a lot of restraint for Blake to not laugh in her face because it’s probably the most ironic thing she’s ever said to him and the fact that she had the balls to say it is completely ridiculous. He’s not in the mood for fighting though and she was right about one thing; it would be too easy to drown himself in the work he needs to do with Gwen.

“I really don’t even want to dignify that with a response, but I’m here Bree. I’m trying to make things work out with us, not ruin them even more.”

“The way I did?”

Blake looks over at his wife, turning back onto his side and pulling her closer. He meant the words _exactly_ the way he spoke them, but seeing the hurt look in her eyes pulls a deep sigh from deep in his gut.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She nuzzles in his neck, pressing their bodies together.

He gives in to the temptation a little bit, breathing in her soapy scent. Before it can go any further, he pulls back and kisses her chastely on the lips.

“Dinner still on for tomorrow?” She asks.

He lets his eyes fall closed and focuses solely on his breathing for a moment.

Then he nods.

“I won’t miss it.”


	2. Two Truths, One Lie

He decided to leave his bedroom early and dive into some paperwork in the office. He has a session scheduled with Gwen this morning but she didn’t seem to be up yet from the looks of it. If her first week here taught him anything, it’s that she’s not a morning person and she won’t get started without her cup of coffee she takes on the veranda porch. He works at a soothing pace, not making it mandatory to get everything done, but doing enough to give him a clear schedule for the rest of the day. He likes to work with his artists without any distractions. He’s got the tip of his pen in his mouth and looks around, thinking he just saw a shadow. One look at his watch makes him pretty adamant about the shadow having been Gwen.

He turns out to be right. Right there on the large porch, she’s got her coat hugged around her and a cigarette dangling from her fingertips. She doesn’t smoke often, in fact, he learned that she usually doesn’t smoke at all. Occasionally she’ll just light one up and lets the top burn down to a stub. It’s like a meditation for her and he suspects a nostalgic remnant of her misspent youth. While getting to know her, she’s once or twice hinted at a wild child phase. He found out through research that she wanted out of foster care and did everything she could to make herself an undesirable case. He’d like to know what made her clean up her act and decide to go full time into singing. He wants to find out if her ‘wild’ years could possibly have anything to do with why her band didn’t work out. But she hasn’t shared that with him and he never outright asks. There’s enough time for that still, this is only her first week.

When he steps onto the freshly mowed grass, Gwen smiles mildly, unsurprised by his appearance.

He’s met her here for the last three days, almost at the exact same time. He’s a quick learner of people’s routines. He leans his back against the porch wall and stands close enough so they can share the shelter the little overshadowing ledge offers. She lifts the cigarette from her side and extends it towards him.

He slides two fingers over hers, takes the cigarette and lifts it to his mouth. He’s not much of a smoker either. The smell reminds him of his mother, even though she gave up smoking shortly after she gave up his father.

Something about Gwen reminds him of his own childhood pains and tribulations. He’s curious and slightly anxious to see what that will result in inside the studio doors. Up until now, they’ve spent all their time going over her dreams and aspirations, while reviewing the sessions she’s had with the writers so far. There hasn’t been actual studio time together and that’s usually the case for the first week and a half.

He takes a long drag of the cigarette and stares out into the sunny distance. He blows the smoke from under the ledge but doesn’t hand it back. He wants one last drag. He tells himself it’s to remember his mother in all her glory, not because Gwen’s lips have been there. Not because her lips have left a faint crimson imprint on the base of the cigarette. Whatever the reason, he places his mouth over it and inhales.

He looks sideways at her, taking in her frowned forehead.

“Everything okay?”

Gwen nods vaguely, but doesn’t glance his way. “Yeah.”

“Everything went well?” He adds a moment later, taking another drag. “With the writers yesterday?”

“Can we talk about something else?” She sighs, hand brushing his as he offers her the cigarette back. “ _Anything_ else.”

He doesn’t immediately reply. He just falls silent and turns his gaze back onto the veranda. Gwen puffs out the smoke without inhaling and turns around to breach her own request.

“Are we going to the studio today?”

“Do you want to?”

Her gaze runs over his profile.

“Kinda. I mean, that’s why I’m here, right?”

He shoots her a half smile. “You’re here to figure out what you want. And to make music, yes, but you don’t have to be in the studio necessarily to create art. Some of the best works are made outside of the conventional places.”

“Hmmm, okay.” She mutters. “What did your wife say about the tux? You bought it yet?”

The change of subject startles him but he recovers quickly.

“She loved it. Though I don’t know what the big deal is. The lady made me try on like seven of ‘em. That’s more suits than any men needs to own. What the hell’s the difference anyways?”

“Oh there’s a _difference_.” She muses, flicking the ashes off the end of the bud. “The right tux on a man can make a woman weak in the knees.”

Not wanting to talk about his sex life with the gorgeous new artist, he shakes his head and chuckles.

“Well she seemed to agree with you, though I don’t know about all _that_ …” He waves his hand in front of him to brush her naughtier implications off. “She stopped nagging about the damn suit and that’s all that matters. Purchase was totally worth it.”

Gwen’s phone starts pinging in her pocket right after the words have left his mouth. She throws the cigarette to the ground and he watches it saturate within seconds, it’s insignificant little flame extinguished.

“It’s exactly ten am.” She tells him. “What’s up first on today’s schedule?” She half teases.

“You set an alarm for ten am?”

“Yeah, for our appointments. Just in case I’m running late or get lost in thought.”

Blake nods surprised. “I didn’t think you’d need one.”

“You said the only thing you wanted from me was me taking it serious, right? This is me taking my presence here seriously.”

He glares down at her, a warm smile spreading across his lips.

“I want to run by you this idea that I came up with last night.” Blake mentions, beckoning her to follow him towards the main conference room. “After that we can stop by the studio, see what happens?”

She looks excited enough by that prospect that the thought of sitting through about an hour of business talk doesn’t even seem to faze her.

±

She touches every sound system with her delicate red nails as if it’s the newest discovery. To her, it might be. He knows her experience with studios and sound equipment is limited and he enjoys the way she’s soaking it all up. He was right too; she’s eager to learn.

The warm tones of the room fill him with a sense of peace that he doesn’t get anywhere else and he doesn’t understand why it’s been so long since he’s personally been in one. He creates all his music at his house, his office the only place Bree knows not to come in to. It’s where he goes to unwind, get away from it all, including her.

He embraced being the executive, the talent scout, the person _behind_ the artist. It’s been years since he embraced the actual musician inside him.

“Do I have to sing today?” She asks, a mix between timid and curious.

“Do you have anything you _want_ to sing?” He asks.

“I didn’t write or prepare anything.” She admits softly, biting her lip.

It’s obvious she’s feeling a little out of her comfort zone and Blake’s desperate to help her find it.

“I didn’t bring you here to sing. We could talk, canvas some ideas, whatever you want. This is your studio time. Not mine.”

Her brows crook. “I don’t understand, shouldn’t you be pushing me to make stuff? I’ve heard the phrase ‘time is money’ a few too many times to believe you don’t stand by that.”

“Don’t worry about the money, that’s my problem.” He says, waving his hand to dismiss it. “And I don’t ask you to make _stuff_ , I ask you to make art. If you don’t think you’re ready to make that, always wait.”

She breathes in heavily, dropping his gaze and walking around.

Her hand slides across one of the keyboards stacked against the wall, her finger pressing in the G note. He’s sitting on the lounger, his eyes following every moment.

“Do you play?”

Blake smiles. “Only the guitar. Not the keys.”

“I always wished I could play an instrument.”

“It’s not too late to learn.” He quips.

“Do you know anything about my personal life?” She asks, the question throwing him off. Her timid eyes look up at his and he’s caught off guard by the vulnerability in them. “Was that part of your research when I started showing up on your radar?”

He leans back while considering her question.

“The only thing I was interested in researching was your experience within the music industry. I was fishing for music and anything you might’ve revealed _in_ that. I wasn’t fishing for dirt.”

“You think that’s what you’d find?” She asks, crooking her brows as if she just got him to admit something bad.

“Everyone has dirt they don’t want others to know about.” He shrugs, brushing the question off easily. “We’re human beings, Gwen. That’s what life is all about. Learning, growing, evolving.”

The blonde looks at him a bit nervously before shrugging and once again he’s struck by her penetrating gaze. Though she seems quite hesitant to share her story with him, she’s beyond expressive in her face.

“I’m not ready to sing today.” She says instead, sighing.

“I already told you—you don’t have to. I’m technically not even here to work with you. You’re writing with the experienced writer’s camp we set up, you’ve got two of the best producers at your disposal, I’m just here whenever you need to talk. All of this can get overwhelming, and well, if I’m gonna sign you, I want to _know_ you. I want you to talk to me when you’re dealing with something, so this never becomes something either one of us will regret.”

“Then why are you here with me now?” She asks, and he wonders if he’s reading her annoyance right. “To talk?”

He shrugs. “We can do whatever you want.”

There’s something in her eyes that unnerves him, a thick tension causing them to fall silent.

He rubs at the rough stubble on his jaw and waits.

“I don’t want my personal life to become public knowledge.” She whispers, leaning against the mixer. “It’s not pretty and I’ve worked too hard for that to overshadow my talents.”

He squints his eyes. “Gwen, in this day and age everything’s basically public knowledge. That’s something every artist deals with.”

“Why do you think labels are so reluctant to even get close to me?” She asks, shaking her head. “At least with the band there were five of us, but it’s never been about just me.”

“And that scares you….”

“Yes, but not because of what you think….” She agrees softly. “I know I’m an artist, I think I can even be good. I just don’t know if I’m _marketable_.” Blake jaw locks, he’s 100% certain that’s something she’s heard before. “I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have them destroyed when your label realizes I’m damaged goods.”

He curses under his breath, not at her, but at every single person who helped imprint this mindset into her.

“Gwen, why don’t you let me— “

“I was put into the system when I was seven.” She says, looking down at the ground as she interrupts him. “My father was an abusive asshole and my mother, well, I don’t know much about her, she abandoned us when I was six. I ran away from a temporary foster home when I met Tony, an older guy I used to be in a band with. Still think I’m worth your time?”

He’s trying his hardest to process all that she’s telling him, his heart aching for this beautiful creature who seems broken, strong, innocent, and determined all wrapped in one.

“I just want to make music.” She adds, her voice softer this time. “Make music and touch people in a positive way. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

He stands up then, his feet having a mind of its own as he slowly approaches her. He can see her fingers itch against the mixer behind her, her face overtaken by a curious expression.

“It sounds like we have the same vision, Gwen.” He speaks determinedly, making sure she catches his sincerity. “I want you to erase what you’ve heard before, erase what you were made to think, and tell me what you want to do as an artist. Tell me your vision.”

He’s standing so close to her he can smell her perfume, but he doesn’t let up. He needs her to understand her value to the music industry, instead of remembering all the ways this could potentially be hard.

“I don’t know what my vision is.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t – “

“ _Think_.” He presses.

“I guess I….” She swallows and stammers, looking up at him. “I want to be a songwriter first and foremost. I want to write about real things even when that makes people uncomfortable. I want a big stage eventually, I have high energy and I want my shows to portray that. I’m not a puppet, I don’t want to be told what to do.” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, does that mean I would do better as an independent artist?”

Blake chuckles. “One step at a time.”

“I’m sorry.” She breathes. “I am really grateful for this opportunity, Blake. I hope that isn’t getting lost in all of this.”

“It’s not.” He reassures her. “Look, you’re here for the next few weeks so let’s just see what happens, okay? I don’t want you worrying about things that aren’t your job. All you need to do is follow your instincts.”

She nods, his proximity not appearing to be a problem for her.

“I promise, the next time I’m in here, I’ll be worth something. I’m having a bit of a slow start.”

He knows next time, he won’t be the one in here with her, but he absolutely believes her statement. 

“You already are very much worth something.” He counters. “You’ve been here for a small week and I’ve heard you already worked on some songs, I’ve seen you up and early trying to get the most out of your days here…”

“I haven’t finished a single song.” She admits.

“Perhaps you’re too much in your head.”

“I think having this conversation with you now will help with that a little.” She says, smiling softly.

He fights his sudden urge to reach out and touch her, knowing how deeply inappropriate that would be.

His smile is small but sincere.

“That’s the only thing I really wanted to get done here today.”

±

His wife has the tendency of befriending anyone Blake has second thoughts about. No exception is made for Laurel, the woman’s whose wedding they’re currently attending. She’s a beauty queen turned catalogue model who he’s seen a couple of times before. Her soon-to-be-husband is the one who’s religious so he assumes the church was the groom’s idea. Laurel wears a white dress to the ceremony, which he’s pretty sure is bad form on her part. Her curly blonde hair is piled on top of her head, a few platinum tendrils dripping down her bare back.

It takes him a few deep breathes and the clearance of his throat to shake the images of Gwen out of his mind. There’s no rational explanation for her to be on his mind, aside from the fact that Laurel and Gwen have almost identical coloured hair. He can almost see Gwen in a similar kind of dress, only he doesn’t think she ever would wear one quite this…uptight.

At the reception, Aubrey’s hand rests on his knee. He takes it in. It’s small and soft with a sweet-smelling scent that transfers to his skin. Her nails are short but well-maintained, yet so different from Gwen’s hands.

The young artist has long nails, painted a delicate red. It’s that hand that brings him his coffee when they’re in meetings and shares her cigarette with him when she chooses to smoke one.

He doesn’t know why he can’t shake her from his mind, but he’s glad no one’s capable of seeing inside his brain. They would condemn him for thinking about another woman –even when it’s innocent—whilst sitting next to his beautiful looking wife.

Luckily her attention isn’t on him or the way Blake continues to zone out. Her hands are occupied, as one still rests on her husband’s knee and the other one encircles a glass of bubbly, golden liquid. She lifts it as the best man concludes his toast. Numerous glasses clink and people murmur and chuckle in warm agreement. Laurel’s name is chanted in conjunction with her husband’s. Her father waits for the chatter to die down before he delivers the final toast. He is warm, congratulatory and blessedly brief. Like much of the ceremony and reception, Blake doesn’t listen to much of a word that’s being said.

He is not required to speak, thankfully, and neither is his wife. He’s just required to sit at the table and look thrilled for the happy couple. He’s not sure how good a job he does, as he’s never been great dishonesty. Not of the socially ubiquitous variety anyway. Give him a business deal to get out of or relationship to sabotage and he’s cagey as they come. But the wedding between his wife’s best friend and his wife’s ex-adulterer is testing much honed skills of subterfuge. So as soon as the music strikes up and the dancing starts, Blake pulls on Aubrey’s hand and leads her out of the massive marquee and across the pristine lawn.

She looks confused as he drags her into a nearby gazebo, conveniently cosseted by reams of weeping wisteria. If this was anyone else, he could’ve pushed his date against the lattice and had his way with her in almost private. But he’s not thinking about having sex with his wife here, or at all.

“What are you doing?” She asks. “They’re gonna notice— “

“I can’t do it.” He cuts in.

His pretence is wearing thin and not alcohol nor the uplifting music from the wedding is enough to do anything for his heart. Here outside the elaborately decorated room, the beginnings of dusk feel much more appropriate for his state of mind.

“What are you talking about?” His wife shakes her head, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Blake, we’ve talked about this— “

“—No _you_ talked about this. You told me this was what I was supposed to do if I wanted us to work out, but I can’t do this.”

“We’re already here.”

Blake loosens his tie while taking a step backwards onto the darkened lawn. Unlike inside, outside is rather quiet and still.

“Then let’s leave.”

Aubrey sighs with disbelief. “I can’t just leave on my best friend’s wedding.”

His chuckle is incredibly bitter as he delivers his next words.

“But you can fuck her husband?”

His wife flinches visibly, deranged, looking around her in shock.

“It happened a few times before they got engaged…” She hisses in a whisper. “You promised you’d let that go. We’d moved past that. You can’t bring it up at their god damn wedding, Blake.”

“Just as much as you can’t drag me to their wedding, forcing me to pretend like nothing happened. You understand how messed up this is, right?”

Aubrey rakes a hand through her hair, no longer sitting perfectly.

“You have every right to be upset…” She whispers slowly. “That’s why we spent months talking about it, trying to fix it. Blake, you were gone for almost every single night. I was lonely and confused and I made a mistake. I thought you said you’d work on forgiving me?”

Blake bites his lip and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“I am working on forgiving you, Bree. Every single fucking day I’m working on that. Dragging me out to this wedding, making me pretend to be happy for the man who helped fuck up my marriage is _not_ helping with that.”

His wife steps forward again and slides both hands up his chest, trying to soothe him. He hates how looking into her eyes still reminds him of that first day they met and how perfect it all seemed back then. The only thing worse than having your heart repeatedly broken is knowing that others are seeing each crack occur. That’s the only way he can describe this current moment he’s finding himself in.

“I’m sorry, okay?” She whispers, snaking her arms around his neck. “I know this isn’t fair and we don’t have to stay too long, I promise. Just…give it another hour. Dance with me, drink some good wine and forget about the rest. Can you do it for me?”

He knows he can’t, but he’ll do it anyway. His faith has been tested many times, his faithfulness too, but he’s always come out victorious.

That’s only if the mind doesn’t count though.

He nods at his wife and lets himself get dragged back onto the dancefloor. He spends the rest of the evening imagining what Gwen would’ve looked like if for some reason she’d been here too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is a story you all find worth pursuing. Please let me know if you'd like to see more of it.


	3. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of important developments happen in this chapter. 
> 
> 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝑜𝒶𝒽 𝒞𝓎𝓇𝓊𝓈- 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔.

The morning after Laurel’s wedding, he wakes with a bad taste in his mouth. His wife exercised her usual discretion after a fight and already left the bed. Blake creaks to his feet and rinses himself in the shower, ridding his skin of the desperation- filled evening and sex. Then he heads out in search for some coffee and breakfast, anything that will take his mind off the horrible night he had. Off the memory of the man who fucked his wife, now speaking wedding vows to their friend. Off the realization that he’s wasted years of his life adoring and desiring a woman who he all along knew would never truly be his. Off the knowledge that he will probably love her a while longer before giving her the rightful boot.

It’s a twisted fact, which makes him shiver from head to toe. He doesn’t even know Aubrey’s plans for today or where she went so early, but he pushes that away for tonight’s pillow talk.

It’s a little over ten am when he steps outside the premises and stares out at the lake laying behind the Victorian build house. There’s an eerie quiet going around, as if everyone is having a rough start today. He’s sure he could join a writer’s camp if he just walks down the wide property and carries himself over to the apartments that lay adjacent to the Lake House. It’s a spacious and largely arced property that they obtain yearly and he’s grateful for the space. Especially now. Living in the crowded and metropolitan LA often makes his feeling of suffocation worse.

The fact of living in that city is that whatever you plan to avoid will instantly find you there.

“You sure tried your best not to get found.”

He doesn’t know how or why Eli thought to find him, but he’s not interested in exchanging pleasantries at the moment.

“Some would get the hint.” Blake looks out over the lake, unmoving.

Eli is the greatest music producer they have at the label, working closely with all the artists he’s signed and mentored. Blake found an even greater friend in the man after realizing they’re more alike than both are willing to admit. He was pleased to find out Eli got assigned to the apartment closest to where he and Aubrey are staying, during those few weeks away from home.

“I ran into your lady while getting breakfast. She looked a bit deflated.”

Looking up, his head naturally tilts and his brow crumples. “I would think that after last night, she would consider herself incredibly lucky instead of moping around like somehow _she_ was the one wronged.”

There’s a hint of empathy behind Eli’s next look and Blake frowns.

“I wasn’t talking about your wife.” The producer admits, then hesitates. “I ran into Gwen. She was looking mighty stressed. It sounds like you have more important things going on though, wanna talk about what’s going on between you and Bree?”

His jaw clenches as he meets Eli’s gaze. “Why would you call her my lady?”

“You two are working together and from what I can tell, you’re hitting it off quite well.” His friend shrugs. “Relax, I meant nothing of it.”

“I _am_ relaxed.” Blake speaks lowly, tipping his head back towards the lake. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“Are you gonna tell me about what happened last night?”

His friend knows about the infidelity that occurred earlier last year, but as far as he’s concerned, Blake’s leaving that behind in the past where it belongs. He gazes over the dark blue water that lies at his feet and bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to admit he’s being a lousy husband and she’s an even lousier wife, but he can’t tear up their picture-perfect image the world has of them either. If people thought he’d moved on and was able to save his marriage from its downfall, that was probably for the best.

“No, I’m not.” Blake brushes him off. “Did you talk to Gwen?”

Eli shakes his head, noticing the change of subject and going with it. “Not really. I asked here where she was going and she said she wanted to clear her mind. I think she was about to enter one of the writing camps and probably wasn’t feeling too confident.”

Blake glances over his shoulder at him. “That’s her problem, she doesn’t understand how good she is. She says she does, but she doesn’t actually _know_.”

“All good artists are a little insecure, even when they hide it well.”

“Only she can’t hide shit. She’s an open book…” Blake mutters, arms folding across his chest. “She’s an exceptional musician with great instincts. I just don’t know how she feels about following them.”

Behind him, Eli approaches and bobs his head.

“Are you doubting whether or not you want to sign her?”

“I _want_ to sign her.” Blake affirms confidently. “I just don’t know if she’s ready.”

“She’s been working at this for five years, meeting with labels and turning down offers. If she’s not ready now, perhaps she’ll never be.” Eli says hesitantly. “It happens. Some artists are better off remaining underground acts.”

“She’s had a tough childhood; she’s been fending for herself ever since she turned fourteen. The restrictions and rules placed upon her by a label scare her, that’s obvious. I can work around that; I can make this an offer she can’t refuse…”

“But you can’t make her believe in herself.”

“Exactly.” Blake says softly. “I don’t want to be one of those people who just sell her some dreams and then make nothing happen. If she signs with us, we’re going to take this all the way. I just need to know if she’s ready for that. Better yet, I need to know that’s really what she wants.”

“What did she tell you?” The producer asks.

“We’ve had several meetings together, talking about her songs, the kind of artist she wants to be, what she expects from a label when backing her. It all sounded great, but she isn’t sure about a lot of things. I just don’t know if they’re just fears or genuine hesitations.”

“You should work with her.” Eli offers, causing Blake to whip his head around to his friend. “If you wanna find out what her real thoughts are, if you really want to get to know her, you should be the one working closely with her. Not a bunch of writers who won’t have a say in the potential deal she signs. She’ll be _your_ artist, so why not do the groundwork with her now?”

Blake lets out a heavy chuckle, disguising his inner panic.

“I’m not a writer.”

“You’re great at it though.” His friend deadpans. “You can spend studio time with her, familiarize her with the equipment and sound systems. All that stuff you can do, give her that guidance.”

He’s really not sure how good it will be for him to surround himself with her too much, knowing the attachment he feels to her already. The only easy part about his job is the fact that he usually doesn’t work with these artists closely before signing them, making it a little less painful when a deal falls through as well.

“I don’t even know how we would fit that into her schedule.” Blake says. “She’s either writing with the rest of the camp or in the studio with our producers. I don’t see how we could double up on that with me in there too.”

“We wouldn’t double up on her schedule. We just cut her current responsibilities with them in half.”

“And take away job opportunities for all the people here?” Blake shakes his head, chuckling sarcastically. “Yeah, that’s _really_ gonna fly over well.”

“Everyone here is free to create whatever they want, at a place that looks like the gateway to Heaven. All this means for them is that they’ll have more time working on their own stuff, without having to train a clueless artist. I don’t see how that’s bad.”

“Do me a favour, alright?” Blake smirks. “You go tell ‘em that.”

His friend skips over all the scepticism in his voice and smiles. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You’re really fucking serious about this, aren’t you?”

Eli nods simply. “Undoubtedly. I think my plan has the highest success rate.”

“I love it when you talk business to me.”

His friend winks and nods.

“I know.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. It’s not like I have anything else to do.” He offers sarcastically, grinning.

“Nothing more important.”

“I’m gonna pray to God this whole thing doesn’t crash and burn.”

±

He’s watching her eyes widen as he speaks. She’s trying to appear in control, but he can tell she’s quickly running out of it.

“Does this mean _you’re_ gonna train me?”

“I think it’s best if you don’t see it that way.” He says. “We’ve already worked together a bunch, and we’re about to expand on that. Just think of it as a positive; you’ve already shared a lot with me, so you won’t need to explain yourself again to another writer or producer that doesn’t know you.”

Gwen appears to think it over, internally relenting before she makes it aware.

“Obviously I like it, I mean I just want to get to work and show you that I’m worth signing. I just didn’t expect you to make time out of your schedule to take this on. I feel like a bit of a burden, if I can be totally honest and transparent.”

“Don’t. There’s nowhere else I have to be, nowhere else I would want to be. If I’m gonna sign you, I want to make sure we’re both taken care of. The best way to do that is to be closely involved in the process and not just the paperwork.”

Gwen nods, then swallows, her whole demeanour showing her surprise. Her eyes scan around the studio as she tries to ground herself and he smiles at the familiar tactic.

“When do we get started?” She asks.

“We already have. Every single session we had together, every conversation, that was all part of it. Nothing changes, we just evolve.”

“So _now_?” Gwen smiles.

“Now.”

“Can I show you something I’ve worked on?”

Blake smiles proudly.

“Always. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Great.” She says softly, biting her lip in excitement.

She reaches for her backpack in the back of the room, something he didn’t even notice her taking in there. He’s been a bit distracted with his personal life on top of the new assignment to work closer with Gwen, and it proved to be a bit of an adjustment to keep his mind from wandering.

She comes back to sit next to him, presenting him with a small and neat notebook.

Blake smirks at the way she focuses on finding what she wants.

“It’s not finished yet; I haven’t even thought about a melody either.” She starts to say, her face expressing insecurities he’s sure she doesn’t need to have.

“We gotta start somewhere.” He encourages her.

“Right.” She concedes, pushing the notebook towards him. “Just tell me if the lyrics are somewhat okay or if you think they suck. Please tell me that too. Honestly.”

He resists the urge to chuckle at her, not wanting to make her even more cautious and fidgety than she already is. He gets it, sharing lyrics with someone is one of the most intimate moves for an artist to make. He does not take it lightly.

His eyes scan over the paper, her handwriting as gorgeous as she is.

_Everyone you love is gonna die_  
_But darling, so is everything, don’t cry_  
_The stars will blink out one by one in time_  
_And everyone you love is gonna die_

_Everything you fear is gonna end_  
_All you hate and hurt lost to the wind_  
_And it’s hard, I know the universe can be a jealous friend_  
_But everything you fear is gonna end_

He looks up at her, her face lost in anxiety and youthful hope. He wants to do everything in his power to persevere that last one, even when reading some of her lyrics makes him want to shred his skin and remove himself from the room. She’s as honest in her lyrics as she is in conversation, maybe even more and it’s a stark contrast to the live he lives and the people that he’s surrounded by.

“Jesus Gwen.”

“Oh my God, you hate it.”

“Why would I hate it?”

She’s quiet for a while, swallowed up by everything that’s going on in her mind.

“Usually when people say ‘oh my God’ like that, it doesn’t mean much good.”

“I like it, Gwen.’

“You do?”

He nods. “Just tell me what inspired you to write it. It’s much darker than anything you’ve showed interest in while working together.”

“I don’t think it’s necessarily dark.” She challenges, shrugging quietly. “I like to think of it as hopeful instead of dark. Yeah, everything we love is gonna die one day, but everything we hate will too. Pain isn’t forever, memories aren’t forever, people aren’t forever. I take comfort in that. Don’t you?”

He’s not prepared to get the question aimed back at him.

“I don’t know if I like the idea of losing everything that’s good in order to get rid of the bad.”

“It’s not up to us.”

“I like to think it is.” He says, watching her with soft eyes though there’s smoke running through his veins.

“I’ve been through enough to know that what we want usually doesn’t happen, but the pain I felt in those moments also didn’t last. It’s not perfect but at least it’s manageable.”

“Maybe that’s what you should write about, to finish the song.”

Gwen frowns. “About what?”

“About the things that made you feel pain, but didn’t last. About the things you overcame; don’t hold back, don’t be too vague. Let people know what you’re saying so they can relate.”

She looks at him unsurely, her features looking even younger when she does that. He can tell she’s contemplating his words and he doesn’t rush her. What he’s asking of her takes guts, and for someone as young as she is, it takes sacrifice too.

There’s no way you can be that honest and not lose a shred of sanity. It’s the life of an artist. The life of an honest one.

“I don’t know if people want to hear about my sob story.”

“A lot of kids grow up in the system, a lot of kids experience abuse and abandonment in their youth. Doesn’t make it okay, but it’s the truth. I’m not saying you _have_ to write about all those things, but if you’re scared people aren’t ready to hear it—I think you’re wrong. People are in need of healing and you’re in a position to give ‘em that.”

“What do you think the label is gonna say when I present those songs to them?”

“I _am_ the label. Try me.”

He hears her soft laugh before she scoffs, blinking up at the ceiling.

“I can’t just come up with something on the spot.” She settles on.

“Can you humour me for a moment?” He asks, standing up and willing her to do the same.

She squints her eyes but obeys, following him into the recording booth inside the studio. He adjusts the microphone for her just right and motions with his head that he will be right outside. She looks at him a little lost, but he ignores it for the time being and messes around with the sound system until he gets a melody to play inside the small room.

He points towards the headphones hanging in front of her, and she puts them on hesitantly. Once they’re covering both her ears, he pauses the melody that started flowing between them. Instead he presses on the mic button on his side and talks.

“You don’t have to sing or do anything, I just want you to listen. Can you do that?”

She nods her head, obviously feeling confused but being serious about humouring him just for a little while.

He takes her quiet confirmation and rolls with it, playing the music again and sitting back to gauge her reaction.

He’s not much of a producer, but him and Scott managed to come up with a melody to one of his songs that he never recorded the lyrics to. He’s got them written, but he’s never been brave enough to put them on the song. He has a feeling that Gwen might.

Though his heart and soul is in country music, the melody of the song deviates from the genre greatly, almost bordering on folksy, alternative pop.

He takes in Gwen’s changing posture; her earlier nerves and hesitance making way for something much more magical. He’s watching her feel the music with every fibre of her being, her eyes closed and her head simply swaying along to the melody. He can tell she’s off in her own world and he’s terrified by how intrigued he is.

_You know nothing lasts forever,_

_But Lord, we try_

The words spill past her lips once, twice, three times, her eyes remaining closed. Though she repeats the lyrics, she plays around with the key and tempo, trying to match the song that’s playing.

Blake’s breath catches in his throat, the sound of her voice so raw, so powerful.

Her eyes open again and he’s hit with surprise at how wet they are. She’s crying.

Her hand moves up, asking him without words to cut the music, which he does. He stares at her for a moment before pressing the button again to speak to her.

“Talk to me.” He urges her.

“I don’t want to sing anything that won’t matter.” She says, voice breaking. “I can sing about my fear of failing, my fear of proving people right, or maybe I’ll sing about my ex-boyfriend solidifying my abandonment issues, but none of that will matter if no one cares. What if these songs never amount to anything? What if I just spill my guts in here and no one even _cares_?”

He listens to her talk, thumb brushing along his cheek.

“Is that really what you’re afraid of?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be good enough. I’m afraid _I_ won’t be.”

He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, every fibre in his being rebelling against that statement.

“Why don’t you come back out here?” He asks gently.

“I’d rather not.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not feeling too good and if I go out there right now, I won’t be able to keep it together.” Her reply is so honest; it appears to scare her. “Sorry.”

He can’t help himself then.

He hits the off button and opens the door to the booth, taking in her wide eyes as he approaches. She looks as if she’s about to ask something, but she swallows her words and sighs when he takes off her headphones.

“You’re overthinking this, but I don’t blame you.” He says softly, staring her in the eyes. “This is scary, Gwen. Nothing I can say will change that. But I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you were up for it. Your talent is amazing, there’s no reason to doubt that as severely as you do.”

Her eyes are unable to hold the moisture collecting there, and a few tears roll down her cheeks. He aches to comfort her and his arms involuntarily widen as she comes barrelling into his chest. He holds her while she grips at the back of his shirt, trying to control her breathing.

“I’m so sorry.” She hiccups against his chest.

He swallows hard and shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize. There’s a lot going on, there’s nothing wrong with taking some time to feel it.”

“I feel like doing this is just going to open a floodgate and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.” She whispers, clinging to him.

“If you’re not ready then we won’t go there.”

She stills against him, still shaking.

“Will it decrease my chances of getting signed?”

He pulls away from her just enough to tip her head up to him, his finger tapping her chin. Her arms are still around him, holding the fabric of his shirt between her fist on his back.

“You need to stop worrying about that. You have all the talent in the world, Gwen. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to get signed. In here, that’s not what it’s about though. In here, I need you to focus on the music and the music only.”

Her mouth twitches and the look in her eyes is no longer sad, more like bittersweet.

“I hope you keep that same energy when I start to write songs about a powerful man making it hard for me to breathe.” She jokes, sniffing and wiping away some moisture from underneath her eyes.

For a moment, _he_ can’t breathe.

It’s funny to him how scared she is of not getting signed, yet so oblivious to the line she just crossed, or the truth that reflects in his own eyes—one she’d be able to notice if she wasn’t so insecure.

“Like I said, your talent is all that matters. I’m sure whatever you write will be more than worth it.”

_Even if it kills me._


	4. Maybe He Found Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝒶𝓈𝒽𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒 (𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝒾𝓈𝓎 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶) - 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑀𝑒

The first verse tapers to an end, the melody quietly fading out until there’s nothing left but his sharp breathing and Gwen’s hopeful face.

He tries to shake himself out of the world of emotions Gwen weaved him in, throwing a reassuring smile her way from behind the glass.

She’s been trying like hell to open up in her songs, her lyrics becoming more honest and raw with each session. Her voice is a vessel of emotions and ache, the pain she tries not to think about too often embedding itself in her vocal chords, giving her no choice but to sound exactly the way she’s meant to. It’s so honest and real, it leaves Blake with little to no time to catch his breath.

“How long have we been in here?” She asks, reaching for the water bottle next to her.

Blake smiles.

“Getting impatient?”

“No, just tired. I don’t know about you, but I usually feel drained after singing about my fucked-up life for quite some time.”

“We’ve been here for three hours. We can take a break if you want.”

Her eyes close, her normally animated body and personality taking a backseat as she lets the silence linger. She sighs and nods.

“A break would be nice.”

Blake waits several beats before a new idea hits him.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me and we can get some lunch? I know a place with a pretty decent view out here that will be good for you.”

Her face contorts in something a little less bleak.

“Can we do that?” She asks with a smile. “I mean, won’t it take too long?”

“Come on.” He motions for her to put the headphones down and join him back into the studio. “We have all the time in the world.”

He remembers the look on everyone’s face when he told the team about the work he’s been doing with Gwen. How her songs were becoming darker but better and how she seemed to warm up to the idea of being a recording artist, including all the rules that came with that. They were all happy to hear it, but they were afraid he was going too slow. She should’ve been making a repertoire for herself by now, instead they’re still working on the one song they have that’s worth pitching.

He’ll be damned if he rushes her though. Coaching an artist, _nurturing_ them, takes time. It’s a process.

She joins him outside the recording booth and smiles.

“You know that no one is going to back this song, right?”

Blake narrows his eyes, arching an eyebrow at her.

“It’s an incredible song.”

“It’s raw and _ugly_.” She says, holding his gaze. “Not everyone is as open and accepting as you are. People see me and they see a dumb blonde with a cracked heart, and they want me to sing about a scorned love, preferably naively.”

Unfazed, Blake shakes his head at her.

“No one sees you like that and if they do, that’s _their_ problem.”

“Are you sure you’re a record label executive? You sound entirely too hippie.”

Blake merely smirks. “A hippie that worked with Kenny Rogers, David Foster, Cher, just to name a few. I think I know when I’m in the presence of greatness and when I’m right.”

Gwen glares at him.

“Cher?”

“Yeah.”

“If I could turn back time- Cher? Believe, Love Hurts, _Dancing Queen_ Cher?”

He couldn’t help but look amused at the way she was freaking out, her eyes glistering with disbelief and shock.

“I’ve been in the room with quite a few people, Gwen.” He smiles, his hand bracing on her shoulder as he squeezes. “I know you have your doubts, but I know when a song has potential and when it’s a lost cause. I wouldn’t steer you into this direction if I thought it was useless.”

“I think I need to sit down.” She whispers.

He chuckles.

“You can sit down once we reach the Lake. I’ll even feed you.”

±

Under the blue and sunlit sky, the view is wondrous to behold, the lake teemed with life. From the chorus of birdsong from the surrounding green bushes, to the sound of carp sucking amongst the flowering lily-pads. Rays of light dance delicately across the water, birthed from the midday sun that both limits their sight and makes the view all the more beautiful.

“ _Woah_.” She gasps.

The overbuilt dock is large and spacious, the food they grabbed from the catering to bring lakeside was laying between them as the only source of distance that kept their bodies separated.

“Told you it’d be worth it.”

The lake is the finest of mirrors, never showing exactly what is above, but converting it to an image so beautifully smudged and broken. It reminds him of Gwen in many ways.

“I still can’t believe I’m even here.” She says softly, mindlessly staring out in front of her.

“Your talent speaks for itself.”

“I’m not _that_ talented.” She sighs, looking back at him with a hint of despair. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here with a man who worked with freaking Cher, and somehow I thought I was going to impress you today.”

He shakes his head before offering her a freshly made sandwich.

“I don’t understand why you’re so insecure about your talents, Gwen. I used to think it was just you being modest, but you actually believe in the self-deprecation that leaves your lips. Why?”

“This opportunity…. I wasn’t even supposed to get my hopes up.” She says honestly, laying herself back on the dock as she stares up at the sky. She’s wearing a black skirt with a white top that exposes a part of her stomach as she stretches out horizontally. “There’s a lot riding on this for me. I can’t _not_ be enough this time.”

“Even if things wouldn’t work out here, you’d still be enough. Your talent would still speak for itself.” He says.

She scoffs.

“Tell that to my landlord who will kick me out after I get fired from my job for not being available for a month.”

“You have a job?”

“Waiting tables at a local restaurant whenever I’m not trying to make a name for myself in the music industry.” She says carelessly. “I honestly hated that damn place so I’m not sad about losing it. I’m just not looking forward to all the couch-hopping that will ensue once I’m back home.”

Blake nods.

“I can’t pretend like any of this will be easy. Before I actually made a name for myself, I had spent two months living out of my car, with less than $100 to my name.”

“You’re telling me you weren’t always this rich and smooth business man?”

He chuckles. “Still lacking quite a bit in the smooth department.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“You were smooth enough to convince me to write a song about my upbringings, never thought that would happen. I figured I’d come here and write a few songs about my broken heart and that’s that. Now I’m writing about things that shaped me as a person, things that I swore I’d never let anyone else in on because it’s just too…complicated.”

“You’ve mentioned that before….” He says carefully, looking at her. “Your broken heart. Would you want to write more about that?”

She shrugs and then smiles. “I don’t know. Part of me feels like he doesn’t deserve those songs, like he doesn’t deserve to know I still think about him.”

“But you do?”

“I was with him for nearly six years. I thought I was gonna marry that guy, have his babies.”

“What happened?”

Blake takes a bite out of his own sandwich, eyes going back and forth between the gorgeous view of the lake before him and the breath-taking woman laying beside him.

“He was in the same band I was in, but after that got dismantled, we realized our priorities were just entirely different. He wanted to hold on to the band, even when that meant never getting anywhere, and I wanted to move on and see more of the world. I guess I’ve always been more of a dreamer, while he just settled. He’d settle for everything but me.”

“Did you feel like you were settling for him?”

“I _loved_ him.” She deflects. “I would’ve done anything for him, anything to make it work. But he’d rather live a life he’d already knew than leave it behind and he would rather fuck prettier girls than settle for the one who loved him. I realized I needed to leave him behind if I ever wanted to say goodbye to my old life.”

“Sounds like there is a song there.” Blake concedes, holding her gaze. “Whatever you decide to do, you need to believe in it. Your parents, your ex-boyfriend, or whoever else that hurt you, they don’t hold any power over you as long as you write. They can be part of your story without being a part of you.”

“They’re all a part of me.” She challenges. “They all own me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You read my file, I’m sure you’ve read up on my past.” She huffs out a breath. “I did exactly what they all thought I would—self destruct.”

“You’re twenty-five and just got invited to one of the most prestige musical ventures. I’d say that however badly you wanted to self-destruct, you failed.”

“I spent my entire teens doing things I shouldn’t have. I’ve been through things I could never write about, Blake or people wouldn’t come near me with a ten-foot-pole.”

“Gwen— “

“Drugs, sex, booze, homelessness, all of it. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you’d let me release a song about _any_ of that.”

He looks her in the eyes, a feeling of uncomfortable ache settling in his chest. He wants desperately to erase those memories from her brain, those damages from her heart, but he knows he’s too late.

He can make sure she knows she’s safe and protected here, though. Whatever she writes about, whatever artist she decides to be, he will do whatever he can to encourage and nurture.

“You can write about whatever you want.” He says calmly, eyes full of sympathy and understanding. “I will always be honest with you though; if the song is bad, I’ll tell you. If it’s good, you’ll hear it. That’s all I care about Gwen. Good music.”

“What’s your story?” She asks suddenly, sitting up. “There’s gotta be a story, right? You’re way too understanding and it’s hard to shock you. I wanna know why.”

Her brazenness doesn’t surprise him, it’s his own willingness to tell her that does.

“My dad wasn’t no sweetheart either.” He says, biting his lip when she props herself up on one elbow to look at him. “I needed to get out of Oklahoma if I wanted to make something out of myself, that was clear. I was always into music so I knew I wanted to work in that field, just didn’t know if it was gonna be as a singer or business man. Figured I could do both.”

She nods.

“Got married, did the whole thing, found out that life isn’t fair and love isn’t easy. Hence the few grey hairs.” He jokes.

“Your hair is brown.” She says, eyes sparkling. “A guy like you isn’t happily married?”

He chokes on his breath.

“What does that mean, ‘a guy like me’?”

“Hot, powerful, handsome. You probably have a wife to match.”

He groans.

“I didn’t say I _wasn’t_ happily married, just said love isn’t easy.” He retorts, back paddling once he realizes he has no business telling his marital problems to one of his artists.

“Is she here?”

He nods. “She works from home, has her own office set up in the house. When she’s not in there, she’s letting the car drive her around in the city. No way she’ll stay here on the compound.”

“Why not?” Gwen asks, genuinely surprised. “It’s so gorgeous here.”

Her eyes look out over the lake again and he’s smiling at her display of admiration for her surroundings. He can tell she didn’t grow up with much, the wonders of the world almost surreal to her. He wants to protect her, he knows that, but there’s something more dangerous there.

He wants her.

“It is.” He agrees. “She’s not much of nature type though. She grew up on a place similar to this one, I guess she’s seen it all.”

“ _Ah_.” Gwen nods, the information clicking. “Okay, that makes sense.”

He can tell she’s being nice, even when the sound of confusion is overly present in her voice. She doesn’t understand at all; to her, this is all part of the magic and she’d never be able to understand the ones who take a view like this for granted.

“I guess it does.” Blake lies, not eager to press her on the dishonesty she presented earlier.

“Should we go back into the studio soon?” Gwen asks, doe eyes looking up at him. “I think I have some new inspiration to finish the song.”

Blake nods, gaze pulling back towards the water that stretches before him.

“Of course. Perhaps we can finish early and enjoy the rest of our day.”

±

She’s back in the recording booth thirty minutes later. He’s learning quickly that Gwen likes to work in the moment; she’s not one for writing something down to revisit it later. She likes to tap into the emotion right when she’s feeling it, and it’s one of those things that makes her an even more promising artist. She’s got all it takes, now all he has to do is make sure she knows it.

She taps her fingernail on the smaller table next to her and bites her lip.

“Can we take it from the top?” She asks, shaking her head. “I didn’t like the sound of the first line.”

Blake lets her take charge whenever she’s hit with an idea, tapping the sound device to start the tune over. He’s not much of a studio wizard, but he’s come to realize he’s much better at it when Gwen’s around.

“Want me to count you down?”

She shakes her head. “I got it.”

He stays quiet and watches her work, her beautiful voice not missing a beat.

That’s another thing he’s learning about her. She’s incredibly musical. He already knew she was an amazing singer, but she does more than just hear music; she feels, lives, _breathes_ it. She never misses a cue and her instincts are always on point.

He sits back and listens, this unspoken connection between them growing with the minute. He can’t help but let his eyes flutter closed while savouring Gwen’s presence.

_I’m no run- away_  
_This is just a game I play_  
_I want you to find me_

_I think I’ve gone too far_  
_Please don’t leave me in the dark_

Her voice is so raw, the sting in his eyes becomes damn near undeniable. She’s singing about longing and belonging in a way she should not be able to at twenty-five, but he knows she’s been through things he couldn’t even imagine.

_I’m no run-away_  
_This is just a game I play_  
_I think maybe he found me_

She keeps singing but the lyrics-change makes him choke on the air around him, feeling like he just got punched in the gut. She sings the pre-chorus another time, this time not changing anything up, playing the last line off like it was just a simple mistake, but it couldn’t have been. _Could_ it?

He wants to hit the music, make it stop, ask her, but all he can do is watch and hear her finish the song with a straight face, no sign of panic or intend on her face.

_I think maybe he found me._

He says the line over and over again in his head, memorizing how she’d sung it. There was so much feeling, so much heart behind it. And yet, he thinks it could’ve just been a simple mistake. Perhaps he’s reading too much into it; she’s only known him for a little over two weeks—why would she be singing about being _found_ by him?

He shakes his head, desperately trying to come back to Earth.

“What did you think?” She asks hopeful, holding the headphones in her hands as she looks up at the glass wall that separates them.

He clears his throat, still feeling like he could pass out.

“That was beautiful, perfect.”

She smiles widely.

“Really?”

He hums, gripping the underside of the table with his hand.

“Yeah, you just came up with that today?”

She bites her lip and nods.

“I guess sitting out there at the water really did inspire me.”

He tries to quash down the raging emotions in his body, trying to creep up his chest. This wasn’t about him, he just had to remember that.

“You did great work today, Gwen. You should be proud of yourself.”

The smile that overtakes her face almost distracts him from the anguish inside his heart, the tug of war between what’s good and appropriate, and what should never be given into.

“Thank you. I can’t take all the credit…” She muses softly, bouncing on her feet. “Talking to you helped me see some things clearer.”

He gives her a small smile.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

She abandons the microphone and joins him outside again, leaning against the sound system. Her eyes look at him full of understanding, something that’s confusing in itself.

“I like working with you.” She says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “I work better when I’m around people I trust, people I respect. For you I have both.”

He feels both immense gratitude over her words and a gnawing guilt for letting his feelings get in the way of something that should be easy and professional. Instead, it’s becoming complicated and messy and there’s not a single thing he can do to stop it. He’s already way passed that point.

“I’m glad to hear that Gwen. Really.”

She smiles. “Would it be weird if I asked you to like, hang out with me? We could go back to the lake or maybe stick around here and talk some more…”

“I wish I could, Gwen.” He says quickly, meaning the words more than he thinks she even understands or comprehends. “I have dinner plans already, plus I think it’s best if we don’t mix business with— “

“Pleasure.” She finishes for him, smiling. “I get it.”

His throat goes dry, and he chuckles.

“Enjoy your evening, Gwen.”

Her eyes shine brightly, the hazel pools showing him every ounce of enjoyment he could get if he decided to stick around. But he doesn’t and she knows he won’t.

“You too, Blake.”

±

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aubrey leans back against the arm of the well-worn couch, nail file in between her manicured fingers as she blows on the tip of her index finger.

She stares at her husband, impatience brewing in her eyes.

He came in absolutely uninterested in talking about his day, and when he realizes his wife had spent the last couple of hours on the phone with a ‘friend’, he scoffed and walked right past her.

He didn’t walk back into their bedroom until ten minutes later, needing a change of clothes after sitting on the Lakeside for hours with Gwen earlier and spending all day cooked up in a studio.

He unbuttons his shirt, revealing his bare chest and ignoring his wife’s eyes as they stare him over.

Aubrey sighs. “I bet you talked to _her_ though, right?”

She couldn’t hide the disdain in her words and Blake has had enough.

“She’s my artist. We write music together, so yeah, we talk. Unlike for you, talking doesn’t always lead to fucking though.”

“Of course you’re angry about that again.” She says softly, shaking her head.

“ _Still_. Not again. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Work it out, Blake. You said you would.”

He walks over to their closet, yanking a fresh t-shirt of its hanger. “I’m over this conversation. You wanted me to stay, you wanted me to get over it and give you another chance. Well, I’m giving you another chance, excuse me if I’m not excited to watch you mess it up again.”

She scoffs. “I’m not the one spending all my time with someone else right now.”

“We talk about music, about her career.”

“That’s all you do with her when you’re working? Talk?” She furrows her brow. “Or do you also help each other forget?”

“Not this crap again.” He can’t even look at his wife. “This is why we can’t talk; we can’t even have a fucking conversation.”

“You call this a conversation?” She asks, glaring at him while he puts on his t-shirt and searches the rest of the closet for a pair of sweatpants. “I ask you questions and you just grunt at me and tell me I’m wrong. That’s not a conversation.”

He finally turns around, the movement swift.

“Because ever since Gwen and I started working together, you haven’t been able to let it go. It’s almost as if _you_ were the one who got cheated on for months….”

“Why did you agree on giving me another chance if you’re just gonna throw that back into my face every time?” Aubrey says, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Why can’t you just admit you’re getting lost in that girl and you’re using her to unleash all your toxic energy into?”

“I do not.” He hisses. “You’re threatened by her, that’s obvious.”

She looks at him as if she’s going to fight that statement but he holds his hand up, walking closer to her and kneeling down in front of her to look into her eyes. “I won’t have this conversation with you every single time I work with her, I just won’t. I’m telling you now, I’m not screwing the girl, I’m _working_ with her. If you don’t trust me, then why are you still here?”

“You’ve been distant, shutting me out for months. You’re never home…. what am I supposed to think?” Her features soften just a bit. “And now I have to worry about you finding other ways to get what you’re obviously not getting at home.”

“Damn it, Bree.” He speaks through clenched teeth, unable to fully dispute her statement. He has been getting lost in Gwen, just not in the physical way his wife thinks. “I’m home as much as I can, I spend my evenings with you, I try not to let work get in the way of our dinner plans, I’m doing what I can.”

“Why did you give me another chance after you found out?” She asks, redirecting them back to her earlier question.

He lets out a despondent sigh.

“You know why.”

“I don’t.” She argues, folding her arms and wrapping her fingers around her silk sleeves.

“Then you’re not paying attention.”

She scoffs again.

“Of course, that’s my fault too.”

He stands up, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I stayed because you asked me to. I stayed because I promised you on our wedding night that I would do everything I could to make you happy and I can’t understand why that wasn’t enough for you. I can’t accept that it wasn’t.”

“So you’re staying cause you’re too damn prideful to accept that our relationship was bad at the time?” She asks, standing up and closing the distance between them again.

He glares at her. “Things weren’t bad back then. We were fine.”

“You were working non-stop, you wouldn’t come on business trips with me, you basically rolled your eyes every time I even mentioned my job. And I get it okay? You’re a dreamer, you live and breathe music and you don’t understand the simple art of high revenue marketing, but you could at least _try_ to appear a bit more interested in the woman you’re married to. Cameron was there for me and I got carried away….”

“If he’s so great, why’d you ever stop?” Blake smirks bitterly, unable to keep himself from doing so. “Please don’t tell me that him proposing to Laurel is what eventually made you back off. Please tell me you weren’t _that_ pathetic.”

She chokes out a harsh breath, biting her lip.

“Do you want the truth?”

He chuckles. “Please, for once in your life…”

“I stopped because I felt like I could love him. I felt like I could fall in love with him and I knew there was no coming back from that. So I stopped it.”

He didn’t even attempt to save face, his heart feeling like it was being mauled as he was standing there. He watches as she wraps her arms tighter around herself and he steps away as he finds his blood boiling.

“I hate you.”

“Blake, where are you going?” She asks hurriedly, following him as he walks down the stairs and grabs his phone from the kitchen table.

“I need some air.”

“Blake— “

“—If you care about me, if you ever cared at all, then you don’t follow me.”

He doesn’t know how things will end up tonight, but he knows where he’s going the second he pulls the door closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is prepare yourselves...things are about to get messy in here


	5. We're Only Human Tonight

“Blake?”

She looks surprised to see him but not at all bothered. She’s wearing a robe, her smooth and long legs the only things he can see, but he’s not complaining. It’s clear she didn’t expect any visitors anymore and he feels bad for showing up here so unannounced; so _inappropriately_ late.

“Can I come in?”

She steps aside without thinking twice, offering him a drink that he gently shoots down.

“Why are you here? Did something happen with the label?”

Blake’s eyes widen and then shakes his head.

“No honey, nothing’s up with that, you’re all good.”

The pet name slips out of his mouth subconsciously and Gwen’s smile tells him it wasn’t unappreciated.

She sighs. “I kinda wish you would’ve told me you were coming.”

Blake nods. “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have barged in here like this.”

The way she stands in front of him, so tiny yet confident, has a familiar feeling stirring in his chest. Tugging at his heart like her songs do.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

Her voice is so soft, yet she’s once again not at all scared to call it as she sees it. Even more importantly, she _sees_ him clear as day. He can’t hide from her, not even when he’s so determined to do so.

“Aubrey and I had a fight.” He says simply, swallowing roughly. “Any chance we can _not_ talk about it?”

She smiles at him sweetly, and though he feels like he’s about to be told off, he takes the sight of it as a win.

She nods her head surprisingly enough.

“I’m not gonna be the one to make you feel worse.”

“I don’t think you ever could.” The words tumble out of his mouth, unable to do anything about it.

She smiles. “You’re a sweet man, Blake Shelton. I think she’d have to be seriously troubled to _not_ see that. And that’s coming from a fucked-up girl herself.”

He shakes his head, his gaze on her so intense he’s worried he’ll scare her.

“You’re too harsh on yourself.”

She brings one shoulder up.

“Habit. I’ve got you though, to balance me out.”

She winks at him, her hand finding his arm and squeezing lightly. He knows it’s meant to be reassuring, but his whole body breaks out in goosebumps at the light touch.

It’s undeniable how much he wants her at this point, and he wonders if she’s uncomfortable by it.

If she _is_ , she’s not telling him to go yet.

“Follow me.” She instructs him instead, and though he’s surprised, there’s not a fibre in his being that wants to disobey her right now.

He follows her into the kitchen, his brows raising as she puts her mouth under the faucet, swallowing down some water before wiping her mouth with her hand.

“I was writing a bit.” She says softly, stepping a little bit closer to him. “That’s why I didn’t want you to come over unannounced. I always get in this…. _peculiar_ headspace when I write.”

“I understand.” He offers her softly and he truly does.

She bites her lip. “Blake?”

The way she looks at him is dangerous, but he can’t get himself to move.

“Yes?”

“Can I….” She begins to ask something but swallows it down, instead she reaches for his cheek, softly touching his stubble without the granted consent she was after earlier.

She pulls her hand away after a few seconds, looking rightfully nervous. He should walk away, tell her this was a line they couldn’t cross, but he doesn’t do any of that. He just holds her gaze and basks in the gorgeous sight of her eyes blazing into his.

He smooths some blonde hair out of her face, and behind her ear. “Today you get a free pass.”

“ _Blake_ …”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re not a saint.” She says, tone still apologetic.

He chuckles slightly, the sound muted by the weight of her presence.

“Neither are you.”

She hums in exhausted agreement, letting her eyes close as her head lolls on his shoulder. The throaty hum make his nerve-endings jump with fire and life. When she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her lower body grazing the front of his pants, he can’t help but gulp. It’s the most physical contact they’ve ever had and the longest he’d ever gone before touching a woman he was attracted to. Her body smells sweet from her shower and her hair is right under his nose, giving off some sort of fresh, fruity fragrance. If she was anyone else, and he wasn’t married, he’d be nuzzling his nose in that hair and into the silky nape of her neck right now.

But he _is_ married, and she’s not someone else. She’s his about-to-be- artist and his tired and fragile friend.

He honestly thought he was pulling it off. He thought he was doing a good job of being detached but caring. But it’s not just the physical contact that has his mind flying off the deep end tonight, it’s the fact she _initiated_ it that stuns him. When she leans into him more, he can no longer control his body’s instantaneous, instinctive responses.

His head bows, his jaw nuzzling the side of her head. His mouth is merely centimetres away from the shell of her ear and he can hear her sigh deeply. She extends her neck, offering him flesh and bliss and the worst decision of his entire fucking life.

“You’re not a saint.” She whispers breathily.

He plunges his nose into that loving dint behind her ear, inhaling her intoxicating duelling scents. He nibbles on the tip of her ear and exhales hotly into her neck.

“Neither are you.” He whispers roughly, before taking her earlobe in his mouth and sucking _hard_.

She moans and presses herself more firmly against his rapidly hardening cock. One of his hands moves to the kitchen island behind her, while the other lifts and pulls the robe on her shoulder to one side. He envelops her lobe with his mouth, trailing wet and open lips down her neck. His hand grips her robe as his teeth bite the fleshy apex of her shoulder.

He knows he should stop this now, but the look in her eyes makes him do the exact opposite. And in a move that’s way too provocative and irredeemable, he slides the robe so far to the left, he exposes one of her breasts.

He half expects her to slap him and push him away, but she does nothing of the kind. Instead, she grabs his hand and lowers her palm gently over her breast. She is soft and warm and her nipple peeks through his knuckles teasingly. Once she is sure he isn’t gonna move his hand, she runs hers up his forearm, grazing through soft hairs and making his skin burn with easy pleasure.

Her whole body is pressing into him again and he turns her around swiftly, kissing at her neck and rocking rhythmically against her from behind. Their bodies sway slowly like an in-trance ecstasy. He squeezes her breast and pinches her nipple, making her back arch. Her ass rolls over his erection and he nearly comes on the spot. He’s never been this hot for someone in his life and he can’t even think about the woman who’s waiting for him in his bed, back in his own room.

His free hand is stroking her thigh, bunching up the material of her robe. She whispers his name when he finally dares to slip a hand up and around her hip, down between her thighs. Her nipple hardens further at his touch and he aches to turn her around, to taste her breasts and slide his mouth down her body.

But if he did that, he feared they’d have to stop. If they'd look each other in the eye, reality would intrude. And whatever the hell they were doing now, didn’t belong anywhere _near_ reality.

So he just keeps her close. He keeps his mouth on her shoulder and neck, keeping one arm wrapped around her chest.

Gwen continues to rock into him, her hand moving unerringly inward, stroking him through his pants. Before he can tell her not to, she’s turning around and skilfully yet carefully exposes him to her.

Rising onto her toes, hips seeking more contact, she whispers against his ear.

“Fuck me. Please. _Please_ , fuck me...”

Blake grabs her hips and hoists her up the kitchen island, both hands running up the expanse of her thighs. Gwen moves back enough to part her legs and brace herself for his entry. She pushes back against him and he lifts her robe to bare her to him completely.

“I need you to tell me.” He whispers greedily.

He knows they’re gonna break one very important rule here tonight, but he honestly will never forgive himself if he takes something from her she’s not ready to give.

“ _Yes_. All of you. Now please.”

He places the head of his cock at her opening, pushing in gently while wrapping his arms around her, gathering her against his chest.

“Oh God.” She whimpers.

He shoves himself the rest of the way in when he thinks she’s ready. Four slow and firm thrusts and he is all the way inside. The fit is perfect, tight and hot, and every bit as good as he thought it would be. She sighs his name, repeats her plea for him to fuck her and lifts one hand from the marble, weaving it back around his head.

Blake pulls out and then slides back in, deliciously slow. It’s too fucking good. He takes a deep breath and forbids the word _love_ from tumbling from his lips. They set a slow rhythm, bodies pressed together, hands grasping at each other. Her robe is bunched up and falling open at the front and when she shifts his hands to her hips, his thrusts becoming increasingly insistent. She says his name over and over, like it is pushed out of her with every breath, every single time he hits home. Sex has never been like this for him, not even with his wife of nearly ten years.

He nuzzles her head, her hair, her ear. Everything he can possibly access; he tries to touch. He breathes her in as he kisses her temple, down to her cheekbone and jaw.

When he thinks he’s touched every inch of skin in his proximity, he gently grabs the back of her neck to get another kiss out of her. It’s long and deep, lasting a few minutes while he works himself in and out of her. Her nails snap into the skin of his shoulder blades, and he speaks her name a few times against her lips.

He holds her close when she starts shaking against him, an earthquake working its way through her body as he continues to fill her up deeper than anyone ever has before. He lets himself go too, grunting a version of her name in the space between them.

He’s stuck just looking at her when it’s all over with, his cock still softening inside her and her arms still clinging to his neck. He knows it should never have happened, but that feeling doesn’t compare to the one inside his heart—the one that needs to do this again.

“I don’t regret it.” She whispers, and out of all the things he thought she would say, that wasn’t one of them. “But you do, _clearly_.”

She pushes at his chest softly, wincing when he slips out of her. He doesn’t know whether she’s missing the feel of him already or curses the fact that he was there at all.

“Gwen, hey no.” He grabs her arm, preventing her from walking away from him. He’s almost a bit confused at the sudden end of it all, his mind still reeling from what has just happened. “I don’t…. It’s complicated, alright? I should’ve controlled myself around you, it wasn’t fair of me to drag you into this.”

She uses her free hand to close her robe a little, biting her lip.

“I know what this was.” She says, and though she says it confidently, he seriously doubts that she does. “I’m not some broken, fragile girl you need to save, so please don’t treat me like one.”

“I’m not.” He says softly, zipping himself back up, still feeling her around him.

“Good.”

She’s beautiful, too beautiful, even when she’s walking away from him. The scent of her perfume still lingers around him and he should be worried about how to explain this one away to his wife, but he isn’t. In the contrary, he has a hard time thinking about anyone else when he’s around Gwen. He watches as she picks something up from the ground, her body bending in a teasing way as she looks over her shoulder to hold up her notebook.

“I might’ve threw it down here after I got frustrated.” She offers simply, smirking as she catches him staring at the bend of her body.

He swallows roughly, confused at how easy it seems for her to go about her way after fucking him like that on the kitchen counter.

“Why?”

“I just wanted to write something, anything.” She sits down on the couch, focusing all her attention on the paper in front of her. 

He understands her then; perfectly and clear as day.

He can’t help but smile and feel torn apart at the same time. This is her way of dealing with things—she’s not unaffected, _far_ from it. She’s just compartmentalizing. He’s work and personal all at the same time and by getting lost in her lyrics, she’s secondhandedly getting lost in _him_. Only no one gets hurt this way.

“I’m leaving my wife.”

He blurts out the words so suddenly, he surprises even himself.

He’s not lying, he means it. He wants to leave the marriage that’s brought him nothing but sorrow for the last few years, he wants to come clean and tell Aubrey he’s no longer in love with her and crossed the line with someone else, someone who _did_ see him, who _did_ respect him.

He means it when he says he’s ready to walk away now, wanting to escape what had felt like a prison for far too long.

He’s not lying, he wants—

“Don’t be absurd.”

Her voice snaps him out of his inner dialogue, palms clammy, and not just because of the left-over arousal he feels.

“What?”

She looks up from her notepad. “Don’t be absurd. Why would you leave her? Why would you leave your marriage of God knows how many years? What are you gonna tell her? You can’t tell her _this_.”

He stares at her hard, reading her like a book, like a lyric she hadn’t sung out loud yet.

She doesn’t want to be the reason of his broken marriage because she feels like destruction is all she’s ever been. She doesn’t want to admit this meant anything more than a hook-up because she’d have to admit all her lyrics are about him. She doesn’t want to appear _vulnerable_ , because too many people have read it as weakness.

“I’m not happy Gwen.” He admits, finally taking the few steps out there to join her on the couch. Instead of sitting next to her though, he lowers himself on to his knees in front of her.

She tries to ignore him, but his hand is swift in grabbing the notebook from her fingers and laying it behind him. She’s about to say something to protest probably, but he shushes her.

“This wasn’t me trying to fuck up my marriage. I wouldn’t use you to do that. My marriage has been over for a while, it’s time we’re getting honest about that.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Gwen whispers.

“ _I’m not happy_.” He emphasizes every syllable, watching her intensely. “I don’t have to tell her about this, I definitely won’t mention your name, but I will leave her Gwen. I can’t do anything else.”

Now it’s her turn to swallow roughly, her features softening a bit.

“I don’t want you to stop working with me.” She admits.

He looks into her anticipating eyes, reminding him of everything good in this world. He’s not a saint, neither is she, but she’s better than him.

“I’m not going to stop working with you.”

“I don’t want you to stop kissing me.”

“Gwen.”

“Do you _want_ to stop kissing me, Blake?”

Emotion catches him by surprise, because God no, he doesn’t want to stop kissing her ever. Kissing her had felt like being fed water after nearly dying of thirst, it had felt like coming home and getting lost. He doesn’t want to stop kissing her and he’s pretty sure that he won’t.

“I’m not a saint, but I’m no devil either.” He can tell the words resonate deep within her. “The next time I kiss you there won’t be a wedding band.”

She smiles softly, it’s barely there but he catches the curve of her lips nonetheless.

“Can you stay?”

He looks up at her, the way her thighs part, the look in her eyes, plus the red flush to her chest and neck all working to harden his cock again.

But he needs to talk to his wife before he ever crosses this line with Gwen again. He can’t stay here, because it means doing this till the sun comes up and they _both_ deserve better.

“I can’t.”

She nods, seemingly in understanding.

“Then you should leave. I have some writing to do.”

For a second he’s afraid she’s upset with him, but her smile is actually more prominent now. He gets up, realizing she is right about one thing; he needs to leave. If he doesn’t, he’ll dig a hole too deep for both of them to crawl out of.

“Gwen?”

She hums. “If you’re about to tell me one of those post-orgasm clichés, I should probably tell you I’ve heard them all.”

He chuckles to himself, bending down again to cup her cheek and place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I was gonna say you look absolutely beautiful, but since you just told me to keep it to myself, how about I’ll just settle for see you tomorrow?”

She smiles up at him, so wide and open it makes him forget about everything else going on in his life. All he wants is for that smile to remain on her face forever.

“See you tomorrow.”


	6. More Than I Can Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Gwen and Blake interaction in this chapter, but this is needed to set the rest of the story up right. Don't get too mad at me...

“Jesus.” Eli’s voice croaks as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Can you just sit here and be my friend for a second.” Blake scoffs, raising two fingers and wagging his eyebrows at the bartender. “I haven’t slept at all if you’re referring to the bags underneath my eyes.”

Eli gives him a small nod, then shrugs on his stool as he takes off his leather jacket. He sighs in content when he accepts the beer bottle from the bartender, the same kind Blake’s sipping on.

“You do look tired.”

“I am.” Blake affirms, starting to pick at the label on his bottle, slowly chipping away at the blue sticker with his nail. “I messed up big time and the worst part about it, is that I feel like I might do it again.”

The admission escapes him effortlessly and he realizes he’s too tired to keep his _good guy_ persona up. He feels like he stopped being that man a few years ago; the music industry and his own wife both stripping him off that title faster than he could’ve imagined.

Eli looks at him quietly, sipping his drink before addressing him.

“Is this about Aubrey?”

Blake nods and in a move completely unexpected, he blurts out the truth with ease.

“I cheated on her.”

His gaze dips down to his hand around the bottle, landing on the golden band around his finger. He knows that when he tells her, that ring will never go back on his finger again and that thought sends goosebumps down his spine.

“Does she know?”

“She didn’t come home last night, otherwise I would’ve told her.” Blake replies, taking a large swig of his drink. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Blake stares at his friend dumbfounded, almost a bit daringly.

“What do you mean? I _cheated_ on her, she has a right to know.”

“She’s cheated on you before too.” Eli challenges him calmly. “It wrecked you when she told you.”

Blake shakes his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“This is different. I don’t want to stop seeing this girl.” Blake admits, careful not to let Gwen’s name slip. He might trust his friend with the information that makes him a shitty human being, but he knows if he tells him about Gwen, he will be made to stop working with her. He also promised Gwen not to tell anyone, and he can’t betray that trust. “This is not some one-time thing. Even if it was, I wouldn’t be okay with not telling Bree.”

“Do I know her?”

Blake tries his best to remain calm, perfecting his poker face.

“You don’t.” He lies. “I met her before we came to this retreat.”

“But it only happened once?”

Blake continues to peel at the now almost completely scratched off label.

“So far, yeah.”

“You really like her?”

He’s only known her for a few weeks but images of her running into the studio when she’s late to get a coffee, or the memory of her impromptu dance routine when she finished a lyric, both sweep his mind. He can’t help the small grin that appears on his face.

He can’t stop thinking about how it felt to be with her in _that_ way, after getting to know the passionate human being that made it all better with music. She was like him in many ways, but they were broken in all the opposite ways. He doesn’t want to hurt her and the truth is, he _might_.

“I haven’t known her for too long, but yes.” Blake says softly, almost a bit embarrassed to be admitting this to his long-time friend and producer. “She gets me and it’s been a while since I’ve felt that type of connection with anyone. She deserves better than me but somehow I feel like she likes me too.”

Eli nods. “Can you see it going anywhere?”

The question wrecks him.

He can’t. The disappointing truth is that if they want to keep seeing each other, it will have to happen in private. People will frown upon the relationship and try to use it to discredit them both. He’s had a long enough career to maybe be able to sustain it, but Gwen’s groundwork is still too fragile. A controversy like that would be seriously bad for her.

“It’s complicated.”

Eli winces, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Look, if you want to tell your wife, you should. You haven’t been happy for a while and you deserve to be. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise.”

Blake frowns. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been your close friend for years, man.” Eli offers. “I’ve been in the studio when you’ve recorded some of your songs that you’re convinced no one wants to hear. I know you feel like being this _tormented soul_ makes you a better label exec, because you think you understand these artists better. And I know that being with Aubrey has made you forget about the things you have to offer. You don’t think I notice the way you’ve shut down? Don’t get me wrong, you’re still an awesome dude, but you’re not allowing yourself to be fully loved and for the life of me I can’t understand why.”

Blake is barely breathing after his friend is done. He never knew he was _that_ transparent. He always felt like he was pretty good at keeping the perfect image of him and his wife alive.

“I need to get out of there.”

Eli puts the bottle down and nods. “Let’s go.”

“Not out of _here_.” Blake emphasizes. “Out of the marriage. I need to get away from Bree before we completely kill each other.”

“Then you need to go and do that. It’s time man.” Eli pats him on the back once, reassuringly. “I’m proud of you.”

It’s funny how that one sentence reminds him of something Aubrey has never told him in all the years they’ve been married.

And he’s certain that if she’d ever would tell him, he wouldn’t believe her.

±

He doesn’t know where she went, but she again wasn’t there when he came back.

He’s been sitting at the dinner table, cradling a glass of whiskey between his fingers. He likes the quiet, the peace and silence that surrounds him. It allows him to think, really think.

He loves Aubrey, or at least loved, and that means something to him. No matter how broken their relationship is, he’s not entirely too excited about telling her he did something he resented her for all these years. But there’s a sense of freedom and relief that crashes into him too at the thought of leaving her. All these years he felt like he had no choice, as if being in the public eye made it necessary to stay in a fucked up marriage, a broken relationship. He had felt like her opinion of him was the only one that made any sense, because how in the world was everyone else so easily impressed by him? How did the world see him so God damn positively?

No. Aubrey was real. She didn’t pretend to like him more than she did and she didn’t make him out to be better than he was. He clung to that opinion desperately, feeling human in all the ways she didn’t respect him.

The door flings open suddenly and he can recognize her immediately at her hurried footsteps. Aubrey is always in a hurry, always on the run. When she is here, she’s thinking about where else she could be. It’s a vicious cycle; not feeling enough for someone yet getting used to the bar being so low, he could stop trying if he wanted to.

“We need to talk.” He says as she walks into the kitchen, blinking at him.

“I didn’t expect you to be back this early.”

He ignores it and goes straight for the point.

“Where were you?”

It’s almost comical the way he sounds suspicious while asking her, as if he didn’t just fuck his artist six ways from Sunday.

“I went for a drive.” She offers simply. “It’s pretty out here.”

Blake hums, but he doesn’t trust her. Aubrey never cared for nature, and that’s all they’re surrounded by here.

“Bree— “

“Don’t say it.” She cuts him off, pouring herself a glass of whiskey too.

He doesn’t know why, but the words get stuck in his throat the first time. He’s been thinking about what to say to her ever since he left Gwen’s room yesterday, but sitting in front of her now, he can barely make the words sound right.

“I want out.”

The first time the words fall from his lips feel like a physical caress, a weight lifted off his shoulders. “I’m gonna file for divorce. It’s what we should’ve done years ago.”

Aubrey shakes her head, looking at him with glassy eyes.

“You promised me you’d try…”

“I _did_ try.” Blake spats, voice raising just slightly. “I’m trying but I’m not happy. I don’t want to stay in this relationship because of your goddamn pride, Bree. I’m not some damn trophy you can put on your shelve. This isn’t working.”

She looks at him with such an empty look, it scares him.

“Is it because of her?”

His skin flushes and air becomes hard to inhale, but still he shakes his head.

“This is because of us.”

“Did you go to see Gwen last night?”

“Aubrey, are you hearing me?”

“You think I don’t see the way your face lights up when you talk about her? Or how you’ve skipped dinner twice to go work with her?”

He didn’t mean to bring her up, or even confirm her involvement in the slightest, but he’s too tired to lie and he doesn’t want to keep this conversation going any longer than it has to.

“I went to go see her yes, but she’s not the reason I want out. _You_ are, I am. We’re not happy…”

“Oh grow up.” She hisses, slamming her drink down on the table. “Name _one_ couple who’s happily married all the time? A marriage is work, Blake. That’s literally what it is. Life is work, marriage is work, love is work. You don’t get to have it easy, not everything will go down as smoothly as the drink in your fucking glass. Sometimes you have to make it work, force it…”

Blake chuckles bitterly, shaking his head.

“Do you know how crazy you sound, right now?” He lets a silence linger, trying to get a grip on his thoughts. “This is not what a healthy marriage is supposed to be. I’m not sure what it is that’s making you hold on so tightly but I’m over it, I can’t do it anymore. I physically can’t.”

These are the words that have been tormenting him for so long, keeping him awake at night whenever she fell asleep with her back turned to him. He can’t believe he’s finally saying them now.

His relief doesn’t last long though.

“That’s too bad.” She says, obviously ready to fight his decision. It’s the one thing he _did_ see coming.

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“We’re not.”

He sighs deeply, taking another sip of his drink. Though the fight his wife is putting up is not completely unexpected, the reasons remain a mystery to him.

“I wasn’t askin’ Bree.” He looks at her to gauge her reaction but she remains uncharacteristically stoic and calm. “I’m not trying to hurt you either, let’s just do this the most civil way we can. I don’t want anything that doesn’t belong to me and I won’t try to screw you over in any way.”

It’s silent for a few dreadful seconds, before Aubrey swallows down another gulp of her whiskey and looks at him pointedly.

“How do you think this is going to play out, huh?” She asks, a greatly confusing smile making its way to her lips. “You’re going to leave me, divorce me, and keep working with the artist you screwed?” He doesn’t know how she managed to fill in the blanks so easily for herself, but he’s starting to feel the sunken feeling reaching his gut. “You think I’m just gonna leave quietly and not say a word? You can leave me Blake, if that’s truly what you want, but I’ll make sure the whole world learns of your little _misconduct_. How long do you think it will take the label to decide against signing her? It would kill her career before it even got started.”

He feels sick, the urge to empty his stomach contents all over the kitchen table dangerously pressing.

“She has nothing to do with this.”

She snickers. “Oh, I doubt that.”

There’s a feeling of pure despair and hatred towards his wife as he realizes she’s got him stuck in the worst position.

He needs to choose between his own happiness or Gwen’s future. And somehow those two things seem to have impossibly imbedded together.

“What do you want?” He asks her between gritted teeth, convinced she’ll lay out a number for him that’ll be hard to swallow but doable nonetheless.

“You think this is about money?” She scoffs, leaning her elbows on the table, her face right in front of his. “It’s not about money, Blake. _I_ put in the work, _I_ fought for this. I’m not losing you to some wannabe, slutty rockstar.”

He wants to fight her on the insults she just slung Gwen’s way, but he knows it’ll only dig a deeper hole.

“How can you not see this isn’t working?” He retorts. “Why are you so determined to stay in a marriage that’s not bringing any of us any happiness? I just told you I stepped out on you, Bree. Why the hell are you even fighting this?”

“I’m not signing any papers, Blake.”

“ _Why_?” He hisses. “I don’t understand why you’re insisting on doing this the hard way when I’m giving you an easy way out.”

“You’re talking about money, that’s not what I care about.” She yells. “I’ve got my own damn money, Blake. My parents would probably be able to buy us _both_ out if they wanted to. I don’t need you to make sure I’m _straight_ in that regard.”

“Then what _do_ you need from me? This can’t only be about your pride.”

“Who was the one who told you to shoot for the top and not settle until you were head of the label, huh? Who made sure you went after what you really wanted?” She lets a silence linger before rendering on. “ _Me_ , I did that. I’m the one who made you into the man you are today and you’re telling me I’m about to lose you to a twenty-something girl who’s known you for less than a few weeks?”

“She’s not the reason— “

“You’ve said that already, but after we fought last night, you didn’t decide to stick around to fix things. You went to stick your dick inside that girl.”

Blake grunts.

“We’re signing those damn papers. We both need a fresh start and I know you, Bree. Deep down, I know you’re not the type of person to go ruin someone else’s life. Gwen is not the reason this marriage isn’t working. It was your own infidelity.”

The look in his wife’s eyes is one he hasn’t seen before. Aubrey might not wear her heart on her sleeve, but she’s never truly calm. There’s always a sense of urgency, a sense of anxiousness.  
This nearly stoic look, is something he’s hardly ever seen of her.

“Well, now we’re even. I think this might even be better; this way you can stop throwing that in my face. You forgave me once and I’ll repay you the favour.”

Blake shakes his head, but she cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“I worked too damn hard for this life. I’m not gonna let you make a fool out of me. You can leave, file for divorce, but I swear to God, I will drag that girl down with me so hard, no label will ever want to get near her again.”

She pushes herself out of the kitchen chair and heads upstairs, leaving him behind with the half empty whisky bottle in front of him.

He’s squeezing his glass so tightly he’s afraid it might break, but even that would be less painful than the words and sleazy blackmail tactics of his wife.

There’s no way he can chase freedom without shooting Gwen’s chances to hell. After learning of her background, he realizes she needs this more than anything. More than she’ll ever need him.

Leaving his wife will ironically enough ruin Gwen.


	7. You Make It Feel Like A Crime

Her hair flows freely over her shoulders, the same polka dot dress she wore when he first saw her is gracing her gorgeous features. She looks absolutely stunning and for the first time since he’s known her, he can barely stomach the sight.

“Have you heard?” She asks energetically, her age really showing whenever she looks at him like that; so full of life and excitement.

Blake cocks his head, showing he’s oblivious to whatever she’s referring at.

“They’re organizing a trip for writers and execs tonight. They asked me to come along.”

He knew about the trip, but he didn’t think _she_ would. It usually wasn’t standard for the artist to tag along, unless they’d ask, and barely anyone ever did. 

He probably shouldn’t be surprised they asked _her_ though.

“You’re going?” He asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

She stands before him a bit fidgety, her earlier confidence and excitement taking the backseat to something a little bit more nerve-wrecking.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I thought it could be fun. Are _you_ going?”

She turns the question on him in a move that’s almost predictable and he smiles faintly, not wanting to taint her excitement with his sour mood.

“Not sure, probably not though.”

“Oh.” She exclaims solely.

“These trips are not really my thing.”

“What is your _thing_?” She teases, probably unaware of the way she’s biting her lip. “Staying at home, focusing on work? Come on, you can’t be _that_ boring.”

He snorts. “If you saw my workload, you’d be doing the same fucking thing.”

She bites her lip again, and this time she seems more aware.

“I for one am in desperate need to get out of here for a second and clear my head. No offense.”

“Then you should go. They asked you for a reason.”

She smiles widely. “You think? I’ve been trying to wreck my brain about why they’d ask me to come along. It’s not like they know me or anything. Shouldn’t they be a bit resentful of me?”

His brow raises. “Resentful?”

“You’re working with me now instead of them. I don’t know how this whole thing works obviously….” She loses her train of thought and shakes her head. “I don’t even know where I’m going with this.”

“You’re overthinking it as usual.” He says. “This was a mutual discussion before I took over for them. I’m working with you but that doesn’t mean they’re not working here either. They just have more time to focus on themselves while they’re here. We always need them to come up with more content, whether they work with an artist or not.”

“Okay.” Her meek response throws him off, but her demeanour doesn’t stay that tamed for long. “Can I show you something the studio? I’ve been working quite hard on it.”

The way she asks makes him smile, but he still wishes that underlying insecurity wasn’t there.

“Of course.”

She appears excited to show him whatever it is that she’s been working on, until she opens the familiar door to the booth, inhaling sharply.

“I’m not gonna sing for you this time.” She says, looking at him directly.

He nods before taking a seat on the plush sofa.

“It’s up to you, Gwen.”

She nods and then goes searching for her notebook again, her tongue resting in the corner of her mouth as she focuses on the right page.

“Here.” She exclaims relieved. “I haven’t thought about what I want it to sound like yet, but you told me that I should just write about my truth. Don’t hide so people can relate, right?”

Her eyes shimmer with something he can’t put his finger on, but he nods regardless.

“That’s right.”

She shoves her notebook towards him, her lip trapped between her teeth again.

“Read it.”

He’s caught off guard by her sudden confidence but he can’t contain his own smile at the sound of it. He doesn’t know how she’s able to turn his mood from sour to excitement, but here they are.

He holds the small book in his large palm, focusing his eyes to read in the dimly lit room.

_Excuse me, Mr._  
_I’ve been waiting in line_  
_And I’d like to buy some of your time_  
_I’m very anxious, eager, willing_  
_What’s your billing?_

Shit, shit, shit. His heart beats painfully hard against his chest, the air in his lungs feeling like sandpaper when it escapes. There’s no way he can keep a pokerface while reading her words, as he’s feeling ridiculously exposed.

“Gwen…”

“Just keep reading.” She orders him softly.

_So excuse me Mr._  
_You’ve got things all wrong_  
_You make it feel like a crime_

He pushes the notebook back towards her, taking in her large eyes as she watches him read.

“Is that how you feel?”

His voice sounds rougher than he’s heard it in a while and he knows what’s happening. He knows he’s feeling a bunch of frustrations that aren’t meant for her, and yet he can’t help but express them now. 

His sanity is holding on by a thin thread and her song lyrics just completely fucked them to pieces.

“I told you things didn’t have to be so complicated…” She says softly.

“Yeah?” He cocks his head, trying hard to suppress the bitter snicker that’s laying on the tip of his tongue. “I’m married and we fucked. How is that _not_ complicated?”

She swallows roughly, slamming her notebook shut.

“You said you two were done already.”

He remembers everything so vividly, every promise he made her with the utmost intention of making it happen, right before his wife let him know of all that he’d lose –all _Gwen_ would lose—if he actually went through with any of it.

“She knows.”

He can see the internal panic starting to take place inside her, her hands dropping to her lap. He wants to say something, but nothing that comes up in his mind would make it any better. He wanted to spare her this truth for as long as possible, and he still hopes to spare her _some_ of it.

“Oh my God.” She whispers, looking at him briefly before walking away from him. She leans one arm on the sound system. “You said you wouldn’t tell her. You said she didn’t need to know. You would just leave.”

“She figured it out. I tried, Gwen.”

“You tried?” Her voice sounds unexplainably calm, until she turns around to face him again. “You tried? What the hell is that gonna do, Blake? She’s going to get me kicked out of here, isn’t she?”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?” She shakes her head frantically. “When you said you and her were done, I believed you.”

“You said you didn’t care.” He replies, trying to keep his emotions from spilling over destructively. “You didn’t even want me to leave her in the first place.”

“That was before you _promised_ me.” She spits out, tears visible in her eyes.

He sighs deeply, torn between telling her everything and sparing her some of the details.

“Gwen, I’m sorry.” He takes a step forward but her hands flying up indicate to him that she doesn’t want him any closer. “Will you hear me out for a second?”

He can see the hesitation on her face, but her silence prompts him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have promised you anything before I went to talk to her. I still want to leave her; I need you to know that. I didn’t lie to you. Things just aren’t that simple right now and for your sake, as well as mine, I can’t leave her right this second.”

“Is she gonna tell people?” She whispers, her voice so broken and scared, it tears apart everything sane inside him.

He wants to hold her against him and apologize a million times over, but he can tell space is what she needs right now.

Instead of telling her the truth, like he intended to do only seconds before, he shakes his head.

“She won’t. It’s nothing like that and I need you to stay focused, alright? This was _my_ mistake, _my_ marriage, and whatever the consequences of that will be, are going to be mine to carry. I just don’t think that negative press about me is going to do any of us any good, especially since we work so closely together.”

She scoffs. “You don’t say.”

“I’m sorry I got you dragged into this.” He adds softly. “Just know that I’m handling it.”

“Can you even still work with me?” She whispers. “Doesn’t she want you to have nothing to do with me?”

Blake sighs. “Like I said, our marriage was over long before I met you. Her wanting me to stay married to her doesn’t have much to do with love. She’s fine with me working with you, as long as— “

“—You don’t fuck me.”

He scratches the back of his head at her bluntness.

“Preferably.”

She scoffs. “I should’ve known.”

“Gwen, I— “

“Don’t even worry about it.” She says, her voice suddenly dropping the hints of pain and settling for something much darker. “You think you’re the first man who’s ever taken advantage of me or made me an empty promise? I’ve met more people like you and none of them were able to break me before.”

He takes a step closer, her words punching him in the gut. All he wants to do is protect her and somehow he’s only made things worse for her.

“Gwen, I would _never_ do that.”

“You already did.” She shrugs. “Tell me, did you fuck me because you were upset with your wife or because you saw this broken mess of a girl and you just had to find out for yourself if you could get her to give it up?”

“ _Neither_.” He hisses, feeling sick to his stomach at the implication of her words. “Gwen, I care about you. More than you could possibly understand.”

She smiles at him bitterly.

“I don’t even care, do what you want. I came here because I want to make music and that’s it. I’m gonna make something of myself, Blake. And I’m not going to spread my legs for you another time. If that makes you not want to sign me, so be it.”

He tries to grab her arm, but she jerks away forcefully.

“You need to listen to me. I know you’ve been through a lot, you have every reason to be upset, every reason not to trust me again, but I am begging you to hear me. Don’t turn this into something ugly or meaningless. Please, Gwen.”

Gwen shakes her head, pushing herself off the sound equipment and snatching her notepad from the small table, pushing it into her purse.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“I need some time to think.” She says, swallowing roughly. “Are we done here?”

As much as he wishes he could make her stay, he knows his efforts will be futile.

“Take today off.” He agrees with a swift nod, trying not to let his own disappointment show.

She hurries herself out of the studio quickly, leaving him behind without so much as a second glance.

±

He shouldn’t have come, that much is clear. It’s not that the atmosphere is even remotely bad, but he left Aubrey in a fit of rage when he told her he was going to spend some time at a bowling alley, one where Gwen would be at too.

He couldn’t spend another moment in that house though, especially with the looming threat that hovers over him there. He’s spent his whole life following the rules, which got him so far, but now he was more than interested in breaking ‘em. He wants to do what makes him happy and he can’t do that as long as he’s tethered to Aubrey. He never thought that choosing his own happiness would ever be the cause of someone else’s misery. It’s the worst position to be in.

He still couldn’t let himself sit this one out though.

Gwen was sitting at one of the bowling benches, her body hunched over to re-tie her shoe. She’s laughing along with a joke that’s being told, but he’s too far away to hear. She seems happy, bubbly even.

He doesn’t know how she manages to do it, but somehow she seems genuine too.

He knows telling her the truth would only hurt her and he doesn’t have the heart to crack that bubbly spirit she somehow still pertains sometimes. The only time he sees her crack and show the damage of her past, is when he’s in the studio with her, writing and recording. It’s the only place she’ll truly spill all her sorrow and heartache.

He can’t stomach the thought of adding to that, though he knows he’s already did his own share of damage on her heart by promising her he’d leave his wife.

She’s only twenty-five, she should never have been dragged into his mess. He _should_ regret what happened, wished on everything and anything that he could take it back, but the truth is he _likes_ the girl. He wants to get to know her better even when it’s irrational and stupid. His heart aches to be close to her and it’s the biggest inconvenience, yet one of the things that make him feel alive. Even when the rest of his life is set out to destroy him.

He knows he’s destroyed her trust. Yesterday’s conversation has left him feeling sick to his stomach and he can’t bear the way she thinks of him now. He can’t deny it being a big part of why he showed up tonight.

For some reason, Gwen’s gaze turns over her shoulder and catches on to his. Her eyes widen when she spots him and she slowly bites her lip.

He had the idea of standing back and just observing, not making his presence known yet, but being caught by her stare makes that thought feel useless.

He walks over to where she’s sitting, saying hi to the group of writers and producers that have come along as well.

The groups are divided into multiple bowling lanes, the sounds of chatter and laughter loud around him.

Gwen keeps quiet until he sits next to her, his shoulder nearly bumping into her.

“You’re not wearing bowling shoes.” She observes.

“I’m not playing.” He answers softly, his eyes following one of the participants.

“ _Boring_.”

It seems like she’s determined not to show him any of the resentment she harbours for him, and though he’s quite sure it’s an act she puts on for the people around her, he can’t help but feel grateful for it.

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t want to be the reason all of y’all lost.”

She scoffs. “It’s obvious you haven’t seen me bowl yet.”

She gets up next, rubbing her hands together excitedly and making a show out of her preparations. She saunters over to the beginning of the lane, some people back on the benches cheering her on. Blake just smiles as he watches her body bend slightly, as she narrows her gaze on the pins ahead. He can tell she’s enjoying the bit of attention but also feels slightly self-conscious. It’s the contradiction he’s been seeing a lot of while working with her.

She lets go off the ball and watches it roll towards its destined location, her body quickly turning around when she hits four out of ten pins.

“It’s because you all were watching.” She squeals, obviously embarrassed. She points her finger at him and waggles it in front of her. “You messed me up. I promise I’m good.”

Blake can’t help but laugh. “You know you have to get all ten of ‘em to win, right?”

She sticks her tongue out and pouts afterwards.

“You suck.”

In a move that feels incredibly foreign to him, he stands up and closes the distance, reaching around her to pick up a lighter ball.

“Let me help you.”

She seems to be surprised by his offer but then relents and nods.

“You’re going to make me mess up on purpose, aren’t you?” She whispers, her body having no problem leaning into him a bit when he sneaks up behind her.

He hands her the bowling ball, adjusting her elbows so her arms are stretched out in front of her. One of his hand slides to her hip then, turning her just slightly.

“Now straighten your wrist.” He says lowly, his hand remaining on her hip.

She does what he says, leaning her back into his chest.

“Don’t lean backwards too much.” He chuckles, using the hand on her hip to push her slightly forward. “Hold it straight out in front of you, narrow your gaze…”

She follows his instructions again, but waits for him to give the go-ahead.

“Focus on the center of the pins, swing back….” She obeys, both hands now on her hips. His mouth lowers to her ear so he can speak directly into it. “And let go.”

The ball hits the lane with a loud thud, rolling forward with more speed than the last time. She yells with excitement when eight of the pins fall over, her hands clapping excitedly together.

“Eight! I’m going to win.”

Blake chuckles, realizing one of his hands is still trying to remain on her hip. He pulls it away as if he just got burned, swallowing roughly.

“I don’t know about that…” He says softly, smiling.

“And you said you didn’t play.” She teases.

She’s looking at him so intensely he continues to forget everyone else around them. He needs to sit down before he makes a complete fool of himself, creating some much-needed distance between them again.

Thank God everyone else was too busy with themselves, or either too tipsy, to really understand what was going on in front of them. Perhaps it’s the fact that no one assumes Blake would ever be the one to cross a line like that; he’s the brave one, the person who keeps everything running, the _good guy._

All he wanted was to be that same person for Gwen, and he felt like was failing at that.

“I’m not playing. I was just helping you.”

“You help a lot of sad girls’ bowl?”

He’s stuck looking at the side of her face, but she refuses to face him. It’s as if her tolerance for him had suddenly ran out again.

“You’re the only one.”

She chuckles darkly. “ _Lucky me_.”

He’s completely lost for words, unable to come up with a response that will be even remotely helpful.

He snaps out of his daze when Gwen announces she’s going to get herself another drink. A few people give her their order as well and she disappears to the front of the room, as if the whole conversation just now did not take place.

“You sure you don’t want to give it a go?” One of the producers asks, nudging his side.

Blake looks up surprised, shaking his head politely. 

“No thanks man, I’d rather just observe this time.”

“Suit yourself.”

Blake sits back against the bench, not looking back towards the bar until ten minutes later. It’s weird to him to not have Gwen back yet and he realizes she’s in conversation with a few other men, standing in the back. He squints his eyes, trying to recognize them, but they must be locals.

He tries not to be a creep and stalk her while she’s in conversation, but something about her demeanour tells him she’s not completely comfortable.

He watches as she seemingly excuses herself and makes a beeline for the restroom. It’s when he watches two of them follow her soon after that the pit in his stomach intensifies, getting him on his feet in less than a second.

He bristly walks over to the restrooms, meeting the two men who stand suspiciously close to the women’s parlour, their backs against the wall.

Timed to perfection, Gwen walks out again, seemingly relaxing a bit upon Blake’s sudden presence.

“Hi darling.” One of the men exclaims sleazily, causing Gwen to freeze up again.

“Can I help you with something?” Blake intervenes, feeling his blood boil.

“I’m just waiting on my girl.”

Gwen quickens her step as she tries to approach Blake, but the guy extends his hand, grabbing her arm.

“Why so tense? We were hitting it off before, right? Let’s have some fun, right here.”

“Let go of me.” She says, yanking her arm back hard.

“Come here.” Blake says, holding his hand out and feeling relief course through his body when she takes it quickly. He pulls her towards him, feeling how she nearly steps behind him, her hand clutching the back of his shirt.

Blake turns his body to face the two men.

“I’m gonna make this real easy on you, just two options; you either stay here and I won’t hesitate to beat the crap out of you, or you can go now and I’ll decide against calling the cops on your pathetic asses.”

He knows that the prospect of fighting them both isn’t a very positive one, but perhaps it’s his height that intimidates them enough to back off.

“We were just messing around man.” He replies casually, patting Blake’s shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Blake’s reflex is so quick, he’s got the hand snatched off him instantly, not letting go before twisting it just a little. He pushes him backwards and hisses his next words in warning.

“Don’t touch me and don’t _ever_ touch her again. Get the fuck out here, go home. If I see any of you two in here for another minute longer, I swear to God I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear on that?”

He feels Gwen’s hand tighten at his back, but his gaze remains on the two guys. They meekly shake their heads, obviously not prepared for someone interrupting their activities. Blake has the violent urge to smack them, but he wants to check on Gwen even more. It’s why he needs this moment to end sooner rather than later.

It takes them less than half a minute to rush out of there and Blake’s attention finally draws back to Gwen. She’s looking a bit pale and her hand is still holding on to his shirt.

“Are you okay, Gwen?”

She nods frantically. “Yeah, I couldn’t shake them. I thought they were being nice at first, but the taller one…he kept making remarks about…” She shakes her head. “I’m so stupid. I rushed in here because I thought the women’s restroom would be the only place they wouldn’t enter.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not stupid.” He says gently, his hand softly gripping her arm.

She relaxes enough to finally let go of his shirt, and he realizes how worried he’d just been. He can’t even picture letting her go right now and not touch her, the need to make sure she’s okay literally overwhelming.

“That could’ve gone wrong.” She whispers.

He feels like throwing up at the thought.

“It didn’t.”

“What’s up with my decisions lately?” She whispers mostly to herself, her gaze no longer holding his.

He’s hurt by the statement, but doesn’t feel like he’s got the right to tell her about it. He just keeps his hand on her arm and shakes his head.

“Gwen, you did nothing wrong in this scenario. You can’t blame yourself.”

“What about the other scenario?” She asks pointedly, locking his gaze again. “Did I do something wrong then?”

His throat dries up instantly, and he _really_ doesn’t want to have this conversation in the restrooms of a bowling center, but again—he doesn’t feel like he has the right to deny her this conversation either.

“I’m the married one, Gwen.” He says softly, voice dropping an octave. “I could’ve walked away, I could’ve decided to not come to your room that night, and I decided against both. That’s not your fault.”

“It takes two to do what we did.” She says, her eyes a bit teary.

“Forget about everything else, just for a second…” He begs her lowly. “Do you regret it?”

He doesn’t want to know the answer, knows it will rip his heart to pieces and he’s got enough of that going on already. But the question is out before he can help it and the expression on face is one of pure honesty.

She bites her lip and finds his hand that’s still on her arm, squeezing softly.

“I think I might’ve liked it so much I wished it could happen again. And that makes me feel like the most horrible person on the planet.

He swallows roughly, that truth not one he saw coming.

“Gwen, I….”

“You can’t answer that, I know.” She says, her voice soft and a little more self-conscious than before. “I just don’t want to lie to you. Not even after all that happened.”

“If I tell you we share the same truth, but due to certain complications I can’t make that happen right this second, would you be able to accept that for now?”

He doesn’t deserve her acceptance probably, but he can’t stand here in front of her and pretend like her admission isn’t one he feels in his bones. He can’t pretend like he doesn’t relate to the feeling or desire. But he also can’t act on it and wreck her entire career before it begins.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” She smiles sadly, surprising him when she leans forward and presses a soft and brief kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for getting me out of that mess from earlier. That really scared me and you saved me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

She shrugs, non-verbally telling him that she should. He figures this whole encounter just reminded her of times where she _wasn’t_ protected.

He follows her back into the main area, the loud noises from the bowling alley hitting them again. She looks back at him before approaching the rest of their friends, closing just a bit of distance so she can talk to him again.

“Blake?”

He hums.

“ _Yes_.” She whispers.

He looks confused, squinting his eyes. “Yes, what?”

She rubs her fingers together, looking at him with a softness he knows he doesn’t deserve. And then she speaks the words that change everything.

“I do accept that. For _now_.”


	8. Don't Let Me Fall

Blake makes it to the recording studio a little over ten am. He’s been sitting there for a few minutes before Gwen stumbles in. She has dark sunglasses on her face and gorgeously-fitted sweats on. She sighs deeply before rattling off her usual apology when she’s running three minutes late.

“I’m so sorry, I could barely see where I was going this morning. I did _not_ remember drinking so much last night.”

Blake chuckles. “You did celebrate your second place quite hard.”

“Don’t remind me.” She waves him off, sitting down on the plush couch. “I should’ve been first.”

There’s a long silence that fills the room afterwards. He can tell she’s tired and after the events of the last few days, so is he.

“Do you think this is going to work?” She asks timidly, taking her sunglasses off and looking at him for the first time without any restriction.

“You don’t have to sing today if you don’t feel like it.”

“I know, you’ve always been really helpful like that.” She says, biting her lip. “I was talking more general though. Are things going to be weird now?”

She hasn’t mentioned his wife since the time he told her about what she knew. It was like Gwen made a conscious decision not to speak her name when they were together and he honestly wasn’t upset with it.

“Things aren’t going to be weird.” He promises her. “I told you I was here to help you become the artist I know you can be and that hasn’t changed. Unless you don’t want it anymore…”

“I do.” She says quickly, her head nodding.

He smiles. “Good. Your motivation is all we need.”

“And my talent.”

“And that, but you have that in abundance. I’m never worried about your talent, Gwen.”

Her soft smile is beautiful. It’s kind, it’s warm and mostly, it’s because of _him_.

“I wish we had more than two songs to show them though. This doesn’t feel like it’s going to be enough.”

“Negotiations won’t go any smoother with the quantity of songs you present them. That’s not how it works. We just gotta make sure that what you _do_ present them is of quality. They need to see that your artistry is worth backing. I can make a lot happen, but I need them on board.”

Gwen hums. “I want to write songs about everything. Will you let me?”

The question is clear to him and though he’s immediately stricken by a sense of anxiety and uncomfortableness, he knows he can’t get in her way. The best artists use their personal experiences to create art out of and it would be beyond selfish of him to try and restrict her from doing so. It would go against everything he’s trying to help her with.

“You don’t have to ask me that. This is your story, your words. As long as you believe in what you’re saying.”

“I wasn’t going to let you stop me.” She says next, keeping his gaze. “I just needed to know if I was gonna be able to stay here.”

He smiles at her unexpected words, loving whenever she exudes some of that natural confidence she’s been gifted with. He’s seen too much of the taught insecurities lately, it’s incredibly refreshing to see her tap into the opposite.

Just as he’s about to give her a smart rebuttal, her phone starts ringing off the hook. Her eyes widen as she quickly apologizes, doing a quick look at her screen.

She screws up her face. “I gotta take this.”

Blake nods, sitting back, arm outstretched on the back of the couch.

“Take your time.”

She smiles before heading out of the studio, taking the phone call outside. He’s curious about who’s calling her, the look on her face hard to translate. It could either be someone she didn’t expect to hear from, or someone she didn’t want to hear from.

He knows he won’t be with her for many hours today, knowing she needs to take it easy and not burn herself out. They’ve been trying to record something every day for the last week and it’s been hard on her. He can tell she’s beating herself up about the lack of songs they have and she’s too hard on herself when it comes to her lyrical content.

Truthfully, he’s never worked with an artist of her calibre. It’s something he doesn’t tell her just because he knows it will add pressure, but she’s an incredible writer. All she needs is confidence.

In contrary to Gwen, he believes in the two songs they have wholeheartedly. He knows the _real_ job he’s got cut out for him is getting her confidence up and her comfortability with the studio amplified. She needs to stay motivated to do this because after he signs her, things will only get more intense. 

He sometimes still wonders if she’s up for that.

The door gets swung open a few minutes later, Gwen’s tired face now looking a little sad too. He keeps quiet until she’s in arm’s reach, his hand automatically touching her hip.

“Are you alright?”

She bites her lip before lowering herself next to him. Her gaze remains forward.

“That was my waitressing job. They decided to hire someone else who could start next week. They let me go, effective immediately.”

“Gwen….” He swallows his words, knowing there’s not much he can say to that right now that will make her feel better. He’s been in her position too, before things worked out for him, and he knows the stress of financial struggles just don’t evaporate with a few nice words.

“That job is the only reason I was able to afford that one bedroom apartment in LA. It’s only a few more weeks before I’m supposed to go back.”

“You’ll find something else.”

She scoffs. “I’ve been through this before. I’ll couch hop for a while, crash at my friend’s houses, maybe the guys from my band won’t mind taking in a charity case once more. Hey, maybe my ex will take me in.”

The mention of moving in with her ex leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

“You’re not a charity case. Gwen, I know this is a set back and it’s terrifying to have to go back when you don’t feel like what you’re coming back to is stable, but I promise you that this won’t keep you down. If you need some more time to apply for some jobs, schedule in some interviews, we can do that. We’ll work around that.”

She stands up abruptly, leaning against the wall.

“Can we please go somewhere?” She asks him, her pleading eyes looking down at him. “ _Please_ take me somewhere, I’m begging you.”

He’s not at all prepared for her pleading words, his brows rising.

“You wanna go for a drive?”

She nods frantically, pushing back tears.

He knows it’s a horrible idea, taking his artist out for a public drive, right after his wife caught them cheating, but she looks genuinely broken. It’s hard to deny her much of anything. All he wants to do is make her feel better. If a drive away from here can do that, he’s not going to stop them.

“Come on.” He motions for her to follow him, which she does closely.

She keeps her head down the whole walk towards the entrance of the premises, his large truck standing out against all the black GMC’s.

He opens the passenger’s door for her and she gives him a shy smile in return. He tries not to watch as her body bents slightly to get inside, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

He shuts the door when she’s safe inside and exhales deeply; this is going to be an interesting ride for sure.

He backs them out of the parking space with ease and watches as the large silver gates open for them. Luckily, everyone seems to either be at work or inside their rented homes relaxing, because there’s no one there when they drive out of the premises.

The long road takes them away from the gated Lake House and onto the spacious highroad.

It’s not until they’re completely away from everyone and everything, that he dares to speak.

“How are you holding up?”

She swallows roughly, gaze trained on the window.

“As if my life’s blowing up in my face. Which it is.”

Blake sighs. “ _Gwen_ …”

“I’m sorry, you probably think I’m taking this whole thing for granted. I might as well ask you to drive me home right now. We both know how this is gonna end.”

The words take him by surprise.

“Is that what you _want_ me to do?”

She slumps back into the car seat a bit more, a hopeless look covering her face. 

Despite all the emotions he knows she’s feeling, he can’t see a single tear or wetness in her eyes. It’s as if she’s completely determined to keep them at bay, shutting that part of her being off.

“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

Blake grips the steering wheel tight, trying to figure out how to go about it next. The truth is, he _wants_ her to get signed more than anything in the world. Not just because she’s an amazing artist and he gets a kick out of nurturing talent, but because he cares about her. Genuinely cares about her and he knows that getting signed by the right people is something she wants the most. 

There is just so much damage there, so many insecurities, he sometimes wonders if it’s possible.

“Let’s just do the math here, okay?” He says suddenly, his voice strict. He can tell it’s getting her attention as her gaze moves to the side of his face. Knowing he’s got her where he wants her, he continues. “You just lost your job. Worst case scenario, you lose the room you’ve been renting. Then what?”

Her eyes widen. “Then I’d have to beg my friends to let me stay with them, Blake. If they say no, I’ll be _homeless_.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have family to fall back on here, I don’t have any connections, I’m on my own mostly.”

“You _do_ have connections.” He corrects her. He doesn’t forthright say it, but he knows there’s no way in hell he’ll let her become homeless. “Why would you have to beg your friends, Gwen? Why do you think they’ll be so opposed to helping you out?”

Gwen scoffs, moving past his implication about her connections, probably too afraid to ask what that means. 

“Most of them aren’t much better off than me. They can hardly afford a place for themselves. It’s not easy.”

“Is that all?”

“You know, it’s getting _super_ tiring to talk about this with a man who’s literally got it all together. I don’t want to talk about potentially becoming homeless with a man who lives in a fucking mansion, used to Bentley’s and AMG’s.”

Her sudden outburst causes him to look at her briefly, yet he stays significantly calm.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was belittling your struggles.”

“You weren’t belittling them, you just don’t understand.” She says irritatedly. “I’ve been a run-away, living out of my car, using every pay check to buy food and put the rest in a savings account so I could one day rent the cheapest fucking place I could afford. I know it might not look like it to you, but I’ve worked myself up to get here. _This_ is good for me. I’m sorry if I can’t stay relaxed now all of that is threatening to disappear once again.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen.” He says, and he should know by now that making her promises is the last thing he should be doing. But hearing her talk the way she is, makes him want to protect her with every fibre of his being. He’s sitting in a car with a woman who’s so oblivious to how strong she is, it baffles him. “You worked your ass off to get here, Gwen. I know that. And please don’t think I can’t see that. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. Let me help.”

“How can you help?” She asks, shaking her head. “You barely even know me. You brought me here to help me become a better artist and I’m messing it all up.”

“How are you doing that?” He challenges her. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been working your ass off back at the retreat; writing songs—great ones at that—taking the process very seriously. I couldn’t be happier about what you’re accomplishing here.”

“You have to say that.” She mutters.

“I don’t.” He states simply, yet firmly. “I don’t have to say a single thing to you but I’m choosing to because I think you’re worth it. I haven’t worked with someone who’s touched me in the way you have during all of my career. You might think I have it all together or like I don’t understand your struggles, but you’re wrong. I didn’t come from any of this either, Gwen. I don’t even feel like I _belong_ here most of the time. I might not have gone through the things you’ve gone through, but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing everything. I know what it’s like to have less than a hundred dollars to my name. And I might be going out on a limb here, but I think I know you.”

He looks at her again, finally seeing her eyes well up, yet no tears make it out on her cheeks. 

She bites her lip hard, staying silent.

He wants her to say something desperately, but he knows she’s processing a hell of a lot and everything he just said was more than he intended to let out. He’s scared he might’ve pushed her too far, but he’s not about to take any of it back.

The road narrows after a while, the green scenery around them reminding him a little of back home. There’s a small and deserted pick-nick table out in the middle of nowhere, looking out over a lake and he can tell Gwen’s eyes zero in on it.

“Can you stop the car here?” She asks, her voice soft and timid.

It’s the first thing she’s said in five minutes.

“Right here?” He asks, slowing down a bit.

“Yeah.”

He nods, making a sharp left as he drives up the grass and shuts off the engine. The road had been deserted for the last fifteen minutes, so he had the freedom of making a drastic move. They stand still for a few minutes before Gwen opens the car door and jumps out.

He follows her a few seconds later, watching as she climbs on top of the table and looks out over the water, her back turned to him.

He sighs while approaching her.

“Gwen, please say something.”

He tried to refrain from asking her for anything more, but he can barely stand her silence after spilling his guts.

She grips the edge of the wood beneath her.

“What do you want me to say?”

He walks closer until he’s able to stand next to her. “Anything. It doesn’t matter, just talk to me.”

She shakes her head and a single tear falls down her cheek at the motion.

“I want this so bad.” She whispers, gripping the edge of the table even tighter. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted and I don’t mind sacrificing for it, but….”

“But what?” He gently pushes.

“I’m scared. I feel like all I’ve done for so long is just surviving and I really want to live…. that’s why I came here, why I agreed to living at a random place for a month with people I didn’t know….” She chuckles. “I don’t usually do that shit. You might not have noticed, but I don’t naturally trust people.”

He can’t help himself as his hand grips her arm gently, forcing her to look at him.

“Do you trust me?”

She looks up at him with a look of surprise, her gaze lowering to where his hand is holding her arm.

She nods softly. “I do trust you.”

“I’m not just gonna let you fall after all this is over. I believe in you, Gwen. I believe that you can get signed, I believe you can become the biggest star this world has ever seen. I believe in all of it. But most importantly, I care about you as a person. I want you to be happy.”

She smiles softly, only it lasts not nearly a second.

“You shouldn’t say this stuff to me.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “The _truth_ is that you’re married. You’re married and I’m falling in love with you.”

He could say he didn’t see it coming, or that it came as a bombarded shock to his system, but that would be lie.

What it _does_ , is rip him apart.

She pulls her arm away from him, breaking their gaze to look out over the water again.

“Are you gonna cut me loose now?” She whispers.

He should, he absolutely should, but the thought doesn’t even cross his mind. Her truth is no different from his, despite the shackles that prevent him from being able to make it his reality.

He shakes his head furiously before sighing, giving in.

“Come here.” But before she can even comply or ask him what he means, he’s wrapping his arms around her, waiting for her to turn her body around slightly to hug him back.

She tenses for a moment before turning around to face him on the table, her arms going around his neck as he holds her.

He can feel her body shake violently as she sobs against his shoulder. He occasionally tries to shush her, whispering soft encouragements into her ear. 

He doesn’t even know about _all_ that she’s been through, but he knows she’s terrified of going back to where she once was.

He keeps her body pressed tight against his, his hand moving to the back of her head as he strokes her hair gently.

“Please don’t give up on me.” She whispers, and it’s clear as day she’s not just talking about signing her.

He closes his eyes, kissing the top of her head.

“I could never, pretty girl.”

He holds her like that for at least ten more minutes, just waiting for her sobs to subside.

Her face nuzzles into his neck and he’s terrified about how _not_ wrong this feels. It’s like she was made for him or some shit like that and that might be the most inane revelation. 

She suddenly looks up at him with doe eyes, still red and a little puffy.

“Sorry for breaking on you like that.”

He shakes his head, stroking her hair again. 

“No need to apologize. I’m here for you, Gwen.”

Their gazes are locked for a few tense seconds, his eyes unable to move from her face. Even after having just cried, she remains the most beautiful sight in the world.

Before he truly knows what’s happening, her lips are softly brushing his. You can barely call it kiss, she’s literally just _touching_ his lips with hers, but it’s the most intense moment of his life.

One of her hands move to the side of his face and when his hand mimics her movement, she takes that as the green light to go on.

She deepens the kiss, her tongue seeking entrance which he grants quickly. All his senses are in overdrive; she smells amazing, her touch is like fireworks setting him ablaze from the inside. 

All the bullshit he’s gone through or still is going through suddenly doesn’t matter if it means he gets to experience this some more.

What started out impossibly soft, turns into them kissing harshly. He curves his hand at the back of her head, pushing her even closer as she tries to accommodate to the rough demands of his tongue.

One of his arms sneak around her back in a nearly possessive manner and he knows it’s unfair when he finds himself getting sick at the thought of her ever doing this with anyone else.

She pulls away from him breathlessly, a string of saliva separating their lips.

“I am….”

“…. Not sorry.” He whispers, continuing to cup her cheek.

She bites her lip. 

He lets his own gaze fall to her lips and then to his hand that’s cupping her cheek still. 

Though he hasn’t filed for divorce yet, can’t yet, he _did_ stop wearing his ring. The line around his finger where the wedding band used to be feels strangely empty and has begun to look more like the rest of his skin, the mark fading.

“You’re not wearing it.” She whispers, leaning into his palm.

“I know I told you I would leave her and I’ve hurt you by not doing that.” He whispers, biting his lip. “But I also told you that the next time I’d kiss you, I wouldn’t be wearing my ring. I was not about to let you down on both counts.”

She rubs his hand with her finger, closing her eyes briefly.

“Let’s get back to the car.” She says, breaking their intimate moment before they both lose it even more, and lay each other down right here on the picnic table. “We’ve got some songs to write.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are still reading ❤️


	9. Let's Make An End To This Sad Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't lose hope.

It’s a little past eleven am as she pulls the summery yellow dress over her head, and tells herself she’s fine with the way things are right now.

Yeah, she might’ve lost her job yesterday and she’s spending every day in a place with her unattainable crush, but her life had certainly been worse. She’s started to make peace with her dreams, and these fantasies of bringing him to his knees while he gives her everything she wants.

It might only have been a few weeks, but she already knows him inside out and backwards. She knows how to make him laugh, how to make him feel deeply, how to drive him crazy without touching him.

She tells herself it’s because they’ve worked so closely together—their chemistry undeniable because of it.

She slides her feet into a pair of wedge heels as she tells herself she knows exactly what they are and what it all means. She doesn’t even mind he goes back ‘home’ to his wife anymore, because she knows they’re merely roommate status.

She might not know what’s causing him to stay married, but she knows Blake, trusts him even. He told her it wasn’t possible and though she’s getting closer and closer to losing hope he’ll ever make it happen, she’s just not ready to let go for good yet.

She’s told herself many times this isn’t an affair. They’ve only hooked up once, kissed twice, and they never get too comfortable. There’s no pretence, or lavish gifts, or dates of any kind. They work together, they talk, and he makes her feel things she’s never felt before throughout it all.

They don’t have any studio time scheduled for today and she was supposed to join a writer’s camp later without him. She thinks it might be good to try and write without his presence, her words flowing more freely when she’s not surrounded by the subject of her lyrics.

She still needs to talk to him though, which is why she’s walking herself down the large hallway, which she knows leads to his office. The view from this place is downright disrespectful; so gorgeous, she can’t help but smile as she takes it all in.

Nothing about this place feels real to her yet and she wakes up every day feeling like she woke up into a strange universe.

“ _Gwen_.” An overly friendly voice calls out for her, causing her to stop walking immediately.

She recognizes the voice, even when she’s only heard it once before.

She’s met his wife twice. The first time was two days after she arrived here. She was looking around the buffet table, making small talk with the catering, when Aubrey had caught up to her and gave her a strangely tense welcoming to the place.

In hindsight, she understands why his wife might’ve been on the fence about her from the start. Perhaps she was able to see something Gwen couldn’t yet at the time.

The second time would be now.

And even though she’d been cordial to his wife and vice versa, she feels like all of that has efficiently flown out the window after Aubrey learned of their _mishap_.

“I did not expect to run into you today.” Aubrey continues, and Gwen believes it because the woman had done one hell of a job avoiding her up until now. “Looking for Blake?”

Gwen stares at her nervously, subconsciously playing with her nails.

She nods. “I’ve got a song to run by him.”

_I’m not going in there to fuck your man._

She doesn’t say it, but she feels like she might have to. Up until this moment, she’d been able to convince herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong, but facing his wife now, makes her realize that’s just a lie she tells herself to sleep better at night.

Aubrey steps a little closer, holding Gwen’s gaze.

“Gwen, I don’t want to pretend to like you, just like I’m sure you don’t want to pretend that either. So let’s not.”

Her breathing quickens, her heart hammering fast. She’s never been a confrontational person, though her life had forced her to be a few times too many. She knows if it comes down to it, she’ll be able to hold her own, but her guilt is preventing her from doing anything other than nod.

“I understand that.” Gwen says quickly, the words spilling past her lips.

Aubrey nods. “Good. I promised to keep his little secret, since we all make mistakes. That’s what that was, right? A mistake.”

She tries to keep her face neutral, even while it feels like her heart is being shattered into a million pieces.

Is that what Blake told his wife? That she was a mistake.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” She says instead, unable to answer her question.

There’s no way in hell she’ll be able to get those words out of her mouth; out of everything she thought that moment meant between them, a mistake wasn’t one of them.

“I don’t hate you, Gwen.” His wife says calmly, looking so much more sophisticated than her in this moment. “I don’t care about you at all. Blake and I have been together for nearly a decade; I know him better than anyone. He slipped up, the music quite _literally_ carrying him away. He knows where he belongs though and that’s all that matters to me.”

She wants to run out of there and throw up, but she finds the strength within her to stand still and push it down.

“I’m sorry, I should— “

“Of course, go show your song to him. He’ll love it, music is the most important thing to him.”

_Music, not you._

Gwen nods, inhaling deeply as she walks away quickly. She finally releases her breath once she’s no longer in Aubrey’s presence, her eyes filling up.

She knew there was something keeping Blake married to her, but she never even considered the reason being their _bond_. From what he had told her, their relationship was basically over, with some complications she wouldn’t understand.

It dawns on her that he still hasn’t told her what _those_ were and the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her there is a good reason for that.

She would probably hate what he’d have to say, because the truth is he would never choose her. She’s just one of his potential artists, a young one at that.

She was fun, new, _exciting_ , but she was never anything more than that.

It’s why he couldn’t respond to her yesterday when she told him she was falling for him. He wasn’t being professional; he was trying not to lie to her by telling her he felt the same way.

She arrives at his office door, the urge to flee suddenly huge, but she knows she has to do this. She knocks twice, pushing the door open when she hears his quiet affirmation.

His head perks up sweetly at her presence, lowering the paperwork in front of him.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the writer’s camp?”

She swallows roughly, closing the door behind her. “In an hour.”

He takes a brief look at her and his face drops.

“Are you okay?”

She holds herself up against the wall, a broken breath stuttering out.

“I ran into your wife.”

He looks at her with a painful look in his eyes, standing and pushing himself up and away from his desk.

She holds her hand out to stop him from coming any closer.

“Answer me one thing.” She whispers.

“Anything.”

“The reason you won’t leave her….”

“ _Gwen_.”

“What is it?”

He shakes his head, the painful look in his eyes turning into something more intense. Something even darker.

“Don’t ask me that. Please.”

She shakes her head, feeling the anger rise within her.

“I just stood in front of her, hearing her refer to me as a _mistake_. So no, I’m not gonna just let you sweet talk me into believing you for another god damn minute. I deserve answers.”

He rubs his hand over his mouth, sighing. “I’m sorry she said that. You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” She retorts, a few tears spilling down her cheeks. “I want to know what you told your wife the night she found out. I want to know what I mean to you.”

“I told her everything. I told her I wanted to get a divorce and I told her that it had nothing to do with you. I wanted out of the relationship for a while; you weren’t the one who broke us up.”

“But you’re not _getting_ a divorce.” She whispers, voice strained.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Blake sighs again, this time leaning his hips against the desk behind him. He holds her gaze, obviously tempted to reach out for her.

“You mean the world to me, Gwen. I never meant for you to get hurt and the last thing I want is for you to think you were a mistake. You were _not_ a mistake. You’re the only thing that’s right.”

“Then why won’t you leave her?” She repeats, biting her lip. “Why aren’t you getting a divorce?”

“Because she’ll go public with this, Gwen.” He exhales deeply after speaking the words, as if they took serious strength to speak out loud. “She will expose what happened between us and use it to smear your name. It won’t matter if I divorce her and we won’t get together, she’ll make it her personal mission to stop your career before it even takes off.”

Gwen’s stunned into silence, her eyes widening.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I wanted you _focused_. I don’t want you stressing about this, I don’t want this whole experience to be ruined for you.”

A sob catches in the back of her throat, her world feeling like it’s crashing down on her hard.

“I asked you specifically that one time…” Her voice breaks, every fear crashing into her and becoming reality. She never second-guessed him for a moment, took his words as truth and _trusted_ him.

“I was trying to keep you from freaking out.”

“I was bearing my soul to you and you _lied_ to me." She growls.

“I wanted to protect you. I had this under control, I _have_ this under control." He looks rightfully desperate, but she doesn't care. This is the same man who made her believe she was worth a damn and then turned around and lied to her every second they were together. "Gwen, I won’t let her do that to you.”

Tears fall freely down her cheeks, her hand gripping the wall tightly as she’s afraid she’ll collapse otherwise.

“You’re just gonna stay with her forever to keep her from talking? That’s your plan?”

“Until I figure anything else out.”

“And then what?” She says angrily, bitterly. “You’ll finally divorce her after God knows how long, and then _what_? You’ll be with me? You’ll finally grow a pair and realize you wanted me all along?”

He looks at her roughly, his jaw locking.

“Gwen— “

“I want us to stop working together.” She interrupts him, her chest aching. “I want to work with the team that was assigned to me when I first got here or I want to go home.”

She watches his mouth open and close, but she interrupts him again, knowing that if she hears him out long enough, she’ll might change her mind.

“I’m not kidding, make it happen or I’m fucking out of here.”

She makes sure to slam the door behind her as she leaves, waiting until she’s back into her large room before she lets out the sobs that were threatening to overtake her for the last twenty minutes.

In the last few weeks she’d gotten used to feeling somewhat important to him, which took more than a little work. He had managed to shatter all of that into nothingness in less than a few minutes.

There’s not much else for her to do but let the sadness overtake her in the way that’s become so painfully familiar to her over the years.

±

She lights another cigarette, the third one of the night and flicks the ashes out of the window. She leans her body against the window pane, taking in the dark sky. It matches her mood and the heaviness in her heart.

This will not break her. It never has before.

People have taken too much from her without ever returning what they stole. They’ve made a mess of her heart and mind and left her to pick up the pieces. She’s no damsel in distress and she won’t wait for Blake to figure out she’s worth more than a few stolen kisses and a bunch of empty promises.

She came here to secure a record deal and she’s still as determined to get is as she was when she first got here. She can still get signed by him. She won’t need to be his best friend in order to have a successful career, they can simply co-exist.

She sighs deeply before taking another deep inhale, feeling the smoke wrap around her lungs.

A few soft knocks on her door make her let go of the cigarette, dropping it out of the window before closing it.

She walks slowly to the front door, opening it only slightly.

“Gwen, it’s Eli. Can we talk?”

She has only met the producer a few times, but never worked with him. She knows he’s close with Blake though, which makes her immediately tense.  
She’s on high alert from the moment he steps inside, ready to over analyse everything that comes out of his mouth.

“What’s up?” She asks, arms crossing over her midsection.

She’s sure she should be offering him something to drink, be polite, but she’s literally too tired to even try.

“Blake told me you requested to stop the collaborative efforts.”

He looks at her as if he's expecting her to come clean about something on the spot, but she keeps her face neutral and tries to keep her body from shaking.

She nods. “That’s right. It isn’t working.”

“Any reason in particular?” The producer asks. “The last time I spoke with him he was very hopeful about the progress you two made.”

Gwen wonders how much this man knows exactly and if he’s about to test her on her honesty.

“What did Blake tell you?”

“That you requested for another team to help you. He wouldn’t go into specifics, he told me to ask you.”

Of course he’d leave her with all the explaining to do.

“I need to work with people I can trust. I have a hard time trusting men like him.” She says pointedly, not lying but not fully disclosing either.

“He’s incredibly qualified to help you become the best artist you can be. He’s the best in the business, I can assure you that.”

“I don’t want him.”

The words come out entirely too aggressive and the look on the producer’s face shows that he’s silently piecing it together. Needing something to fix it, she continues on a slightly softer tone.

“I think he’s done all he can do for me. I want to grow around other people, learn different things. I don’t want to be confined to one person while I’m here.”

“But you _do_ want to stay here?” Eli verifies.

“Nothing about my dreams have changed.”

He nods. “I’ve put in the request an hour ago, after Blake told me. The team is willing to take over his schedule for the week with you. We will see what happens after that.”

It seems a bit weird to her how he’s been trying to talk her out of this, after finding out the request has already been approved. Perhaps this visit is more about loyalty to his friend than it’s about business.

“Thank you.” She says.

“Can I offer you one piece of advice though?”

She hesitates to say yes to that, but nods regardless.

“Some bridges are not worth burning. If you’re serious about being a part of this industry, you gotta learn which people are there for you and which ones are only there to profit from you. He’s not the one you should be running from.”

She’s speechless, unable to respond.

She’s sure Eli wouldn’t be saying any of this if he knew what was going on. If he knew how Blake tricked her for weeks, making her believe she was safe, like he had her best interests at heart.

“I will email you the new schedule. It will be the same as the one you have, only different locations and different people. I’ll forward you a list of names and a property map to help you find your way to the different houses.”

Gwen nods, feeling both overwhelmed and relieved.

“ _Eli_?” She whispers softly, feeling her resolve break just temporarily. “How was Blake when he told you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing the words out of his mouth with a sense of finality to them.

“Tired. He’s exhausted, Gwen.”

Eli looks at her briefly after that, before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

She wants to ask more questions, pry for more information, but she made her decision to let him go. She made the decision to work with other people and avoid him as much as she can.

She keeps all her questions inside, letting the producer exit the house without uttering another word.

Blake will be fine. She hasn’t met a single soul who _hadn’t_ been after she left them.


	10. I Can't Be Your Saint

“It’s going to be complete chaos.” Eli says, rubbing his forefinger at the space between his eyes.

Blake almost feels bad for sharing his plan with his best friend, as he can see the physical manifestation of stress spread across his features.

It had felt good to no longer leave Eli in the dark about his life though and as much as he’s embarrassed about the state of his current love life, he needs the support from a friend he respects before he blows it all up some more.

“What time?” Eli asks, sighing.

“Seven pm.”

“Where?”

“Studio 40.”

Talking about it only makes it more real, he’s experiencing the truth of that statement right now. He sinks back into his office chair, looking out over the gorgeous lake.

“This whole situation is killing us. It’s killing me, it’s killing Gwen, it’s even killing Bree. I gotta try something.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” His friend responds, his voice low.

He knows Eli is right. They’ve shared everything so far, and this shouldn’t have been an exception. He could’ve used his friend’s advice before he went and dragged Gwen into his mess.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Blake says softly, turning his head to look at him again. “I just didn’t know what to tell you, you know? It all happened so goddamn fast.”

“You still really like Gwen?”

Blake nods, trapping his lip between his teeth.

“More than I should. I can’t help it.”

Eli nods. “She’s special, even I can tell.”

“She’s otherworldly.”

“She’s trying hard to make it seem like she doesn’t care, but the sessions so far have been awkward, a little tense even. I’m just worried she’s going to fumble the bag on this man, you might need to intervene at some point.”

Blake shakes his head determinedly. “That wouldn’t do any good. She hates me right now.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she’s hurt. You guys had something good going though, music was flowing. She’s shutting down right now, with us.”

Blake feels the ache of that statement deep in his chest.

“Has she written anything?”

“Superficially. She’s not letting herself go as deep as she used to. I read the song you and her worked on; that was on a different level.”

He shakes his head. “You spoke to her right after she requested the change. You saw her determination. She wants this.”

“Maybe.” Eli concedes. “But right now she’s not fighting for it as hard as she promised us she would. I don’t know what it is, but it looks a lot like rebellion to me.”

“She wouldn’t— “

“She’s young and hurt.” His friend cuts him off. “She _would_.”

“There’s nothing I can do.” Blake offers weakly.

Eli pushes himself out of the chair, rubbing his hands together once before turning on his heel.

“I support you in what you’re about to do, but don’t ask me to support the cowardly decision to pull back when she obviously needs you the most.”

Blake feels himself grow agitated but remains quiet. Perhaps he realizes his friend isn’t wrong. He might be in the process of breaking his life wide open, finding the courage to do what he should’ve done weeks ago, but the thought of talking to Gwen right now is for some reason scarier than anything else.

If he doesn’t though, she might blow her chances of getting signed and that’s just not something he can live with.

He sighs deeply, as he comes to terms with the realization that Eli was right once again; he needs to do something.

±

He’s not surprised to find her smoking a cigarette outside of the studio, leaning her back against the stone wall.

He hasn’t talked to her in a few days, stayed out of her way completely, but he had let his eyes linger on her a few times while she was unaware. Each time, she’d been sporting a cigarette between her slim fingers, looking down at the ground instead of up to the sky.

He hasn’t seen her smoke that much while they were still working together, before his wife decided to rip her a new one.

Blake feels the heaviness in his steps when he approaches her slowly, hoping like hell she won’t walk away after spotting him. It happens quickly, the way her head turns to him and learns of his presence. She looks at him sharply, shaking her head before dropping her cigarette to the ground. She stamps on it once with her feet before briskly turning around.

“Gwen, wait.”

He didn’t expect her to listen, but for some reason she does. Her movements halt as she turns back around, her features stoic.

“What do you want?”

“A few minutes?” He tries, walking closer until he’s close enough to smell the spicy scent of her perfume.

“I don’t have a few minutes, I’m working.”

“How is that going?”

She smiles bitterly. “Well, that’s not really your concern anymore.”

“I beg to differ.” He states calmly. “If I sign you, you’ll be my artist, on _my_ label. So what you do in there will always be my concern.”

She sighs, breaking his gaze. “It’s going fine. Can I go back inside now?”

“Are you enjoying working with the other writers and producers?” He asks instead.

She looks up at him annoyed.

“Are you asking me if I like it more than working with _you_?” She forces out harshly. “At least they’re honest with me, Blake. At least they don’t have their fucking wives show there up to make me feel bad about myself, so I’ll take that as an improvement.”

Her words hurt him, but he knows better than to try and fight it. He knows that his words won’t get him anywhere, and until he’s able to put his plan into motion, he won’t speak a word about their current predicament.

“Listen, I know you’re angry, but you need to keep in mind why you’re here. You want that deal, I know you do. So go in there and give it your all. Don’t shut yourself off, don’t sugar coat your feelings.”

He can tell she’s offended, but everything that sparks that fire in her makes him happy at the moment. He needs to see her passion again.

“I’m not sugar coating anything. Why are you assuming I can’t work without you?”

“I’m not. I’m just reminding you of what’s at stake here.”

“Trust me…” She hisses. “I _know_ what’s at stake here. That’s why I need you to stay away from me, alright? Just let me do what I came here to do without….” She shakes her head and swallows the words on the tip of her tongue. “Can I please go back inside now?”

He swallows roughly, stepping backwards.

“Of course, sorry for holding you up.”

He can tell she’s hesitating on her next move, but her features harden again quickly before she hurries herself back into the studio.

It hurts him to see her so hostile, so defensive. He knows she’s just trying to protect herself after he failed to do that before. It’s something that keeps him awake, the guilt gnawing at him like a disease.

He knows it’s only a matter of time though, before he gets to take some of the control back in his own hands, and hopefully mend some of the trust that he’s broken with Gwen in the last few days.

±

“I’m staying at our home.” Aubrey speaks over the phone, rustling sounds on her end of the line making him restless.

“For how long?”

“Just tonight. Probably be back by tomorrow afternoon.”

Blake nods, though she can’t’ see it.

It surprisingly works well with his own plans for tomorrow. He doesn’t necessarily want to see his wife again, let alone live at the same place as her, but having her around tomorrow wouldn’t hurt.

“Bree, we need to talk.” He tries again, hoping for one last opportunity to get this done civilly, before he goes rogue to try and fix this himself. “Just hear me out…”

“Don’t bring it up again, Blake.” She warns him, her voice dropping an octave. “I already told you, we’re _not_ getting divorced.”

“Because you want to stay married for no goddamn reason, yes you told me. But I still don’t think this is about us, I don’t even think it’s about Gwen. You’re scared.”

His wife scoffs at the other end of the line.

“It has nothing to do with fear.”

“This was never the life you wanted, Bree.” He says softly, a hint of guilt touching his voice. “You never wanted to be surrounded by music and loose plans, late nights and no stability. But you went with it because it was the only way to make us work and in doing so, you could justify never one hundred percent going for your own dreams.”

“I’m happy with the way things are. Why can’t you be?”

“Because this isn’t what neither one of us signed up for.” He says exasperatedly. “If we wanted this type of live for ourselves, we would’ve gotten a damn roommate. You and I both know there’s no future here anymore.”

“I’m not entertaining this conversation again, Blake. I told you where I stand and I advise you to just accept that.”

He doesn’t know how things got this bad between them, but he does know his wife better than she likes giving him credit for. He knows she’s all about status and public perception; any situation she can come out looking the best in, she will go along with. It’s why he can’t save his own name, but he thinks he’s found a way to save Gwen’s. It’s not perfect but it will set him free.

It will set all three of them free.

He just wishes it could’ve been done differently.

“Fine, Bree.” He relents, dropping it. “I’m gonna go, I have some more work to do.”

His wife hums. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There’s no _I love you_ or hint of affection when they disconnect the call. All there’s left now is an empty tension that amounts to nothing.

He wanders to the kitchen, about to pour himself a deep glass of scotch, when movement out of the large square window catches his eye.

He focuses hard to try and see in the darkness, the lights of the premises making it just so that he can make out Gwen’s figure outside. He doesn’t know where she just came from, but she’s wandering back to her apartment by herself, the sway in her step making it clear that she’s struggling with even doing that.

His plan to get buzzed is immediately cancelled as he puts on his shoes and heads for the front door. He can’t believe that the same day he tried to warn her about taking this opportunity serious, is the same day he catches her stumbling along the premises _drunk_.

Though he’s angry, he’s mostly worried.

The air hits him around his face, as he walks closer to her. He realizes she’s changed clothes since the last time he’s seen her, and she’s now wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue tank top that shows off most of her ribcage. She’s not wearing a coat and her hair is up in a messy bun.

“Gwen, hey!”

He tries getting her attention, but she keeps walking, nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Where did you go?” He asks her, continuing to draw closer.

She sways a little on her feet, her hand reaching out for the wall to keep her upright. He should feel nothing but worry probably, but instead he feels anger running through his veins. Perhaps it’s because of the conversation he had with his wife earlier, but seeing her here like this just makes him incredibly frustrated.

“Catering serves drinks too, y’know that?” She slurs. “For _free_.”

“You were getting plastered right here?” He asks, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ Gwen, do you even still want this?”

He reaches for her when she stumbles again, this time successful in grabbing her arm. He tries to pull her with him, getting approximately two feet further when she all the sudden stops walking and looks at him with pure anger on her features. He’s surprised by it, but doesn’t let go; he needs to get her inside her room, away from any possible prying eyes. Having his potential artist show up drunk on the property wouldn’t be too great of an advertisement.

She shakes her head before pushing at his chest _hard_. The force of it knocks him back a bit, his hands going up to show her he’s backing up.

She doesn’t care though, she just comes barrelling back towards him, shoving her hands against his chest some more.

“You’re gonna take advantage of me again?” She slurs, continuing the assault on his chest, not stopping until he’s using all the strength he possesses not to budge. “It gets you off seeing me like this?” I bet you just can’t _wait_ to fuck me now.”

The words hurt his feelings and he can see on her face that she knows. He wants to yell at her for assuming the worst, but all he can think of is what must’ve happened to her for her to even think like that.  
  
He looks around a few times before realizing the coast is clear. He sighs, wishing he wouldn’t have to use his strength against her in this moment, but he doesn’t see any other option.

He pulls at her arm, yanking her along with him. She stumbles with him, trying to pull her arm away but being unsuccessful. She says things to him in between it all, but all Blake focuses on is getting closer to the house she’s staying in. He doesn’t slow down his pace either, no matter how much she begs for him to. She just continues to try and keep up, eventually giving in and using his arm for stability. By the time he reaches her place, she’s basically leaning into the side of his body, letting him lead her completely.

“Grab your keys.” He orders her roughly, not in the mood to wait.

She scrambles into the pocket of her jeans, retrieving the small key chain. He takes it from her hands, recognizing the key that belongs to the house on the property. He quickly turns the lock, pushing her forward and sighing in relief when he’s got her inside.  
  
Not wanting to waste a second to get her into bed, hoping she can sleep this off enough to be of _some_ use tomorrow when she’s got another _three_ sessions lined up, he moves her towards the stairs.

She tenses again, dragging her feet.

“You’re disgusting. I hate you.”

She yanks herself free from his grasp again, grabbing the stair rails.

Her blood shot eyes look at him angrily but he can see the distrust in them from a mile away. She’s not angry with him, she’s _terrified_.

He exhales heavily, not moving an inch. He never knew how deep certain issues seemed to run and he shakes his head softly at the sight of it now.

“I don’t need to go up with you. I just want you up the stairs safely…. go by yourself.”

He can see the _fuck you_ on the tip of her tongue, but he’s surprised to learn she’s not speaking it out loud. She turns her back to him, ungracefully climbing the stairs.

She gets about three steps up before she stumbles again, gripping the railing so hard her knuckles turn white.

He doesn’t know how much she had to drink, but it couldn’t have stayed at a few glasses. He would have to have a serious conversation with catering about that tomorrow. Who the hell thought it was okay to let her get drunk like that?

She finally gives up, leaning over the railing a bit as he hears her exhale a broken breath.

“ _Blake_?”

“That’s what I thought.” He says before approaching, unable to hide the annoyance.

He realizes it’s not _her_ he’s annoyed with though; he’s annoyed with every single person who continues to fail at protecting this girl.

He helps her up the stairs, sighing when she pulls away from him the moment they reach the top. He watches as she rushes into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

He had no intention of going in there with her anyway, especially not after seeing her reaction to him this evening. He also can’t get himself to leave though. He’s never seen her this messed up and dark, and though he knows she’d probably be less on edge with him gone, he just can’t risk it.

He stays behind on the second floor, staring mindlessly at the bathroom door, waiting for her to make her exit.

She does nearly fifteen minutes later. Her hair is wet and so is her face, he thinks she might’ve washed it. She’s still wearing the clothes from before, only she’s holding a robe in her arms now.

“You’re still here.” She observes.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She swallows roughly, pointing at her bedroom door.

“I need to change my clothes.”

He nods. “I’ll wait out here.”

She cocks her head, annoyed. “Why are you still here, Blake? Don’t you have a wife to go back to?”

He sighs, not wanting to talk about his wife, and wishing Gwen wouldn’t feel the need to either. She’s in no condition to hear about the plan he’s got cooked up, and so he dismisses the subject all together.

“I just want to make sure you make it into bed safe. I’ll leave right after.”

She sways a little bit on her feet still, but it seems to have gotten a little less than a few minutes ago.

“Whatever, I warned you.” She mutters, walking past him to the bedroom.

He follows right behind, but never actually sets foot into the room, even when she leaves the door open.

“Warned me about what?”

He leans against the doorframe, watching Gwen rummage through her closet until she retrieves a pair of sleeping shorts.

“I’m not someone you need to fucking save, Blake.” She hisses, throwing her robe at him and smirking when he catches it. The sight leaves him confused. “I can fend for myself, I’ve done it all my life. I told you to leave cause there’s nothing you can do here. And that includes me.”

He rubs his chin, frustrated.

“You can’t honestly think I would _ever_ take advantage or hurt you like that.”

She scoffs, surprising him again when she takes her shirt off, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but her jeans and a black bra.

“That’s what they all say before they take advantage or hurt you.” She looks at him pointedly, then points at herself. “You mind giving me some privacy?”

He can see it then, she’s _testing_ him. Experimenting with exactly how long he’ll continue to pretend he’s got her best interest at heart before betraying her trust.

He can feel the heartache spread through him fast, her own trust issues making him feel unprecedentedly low about himself.

He turns around, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it. He closes his eyes, his head leaning against the hard wood.

The minutes tick by as he waits, no sound coming from the other end of the door. He’s beyond worried and not just because of how dark he’s seen her get tonight, but because he realizes just how much of her he _doesn’t_ know yet.

For all he knows, there’s so much more darkness to uncover there. He’s not scared to be there for her, but he’s terrified she won’t let him.

“Gwen?” He asks softly, not opening the door, wanting to wait specifically for her consent on that.

No answer.

“Gwen, baby please.” He closes his eyes, head continuing to rest on the door. “Can I come in?”

She stays quiet.

“Can you at least let me know you’re in bed? I will leave you alone after that.”

He doesn’t know if he’ll actually leave the house, but he will go downstairs, leave her alone. Maybe he can crash on her couch for the night. Just in case.

There’s no answer still. He curses inwardly, turning around as he knocks on the door once to announce he’s coming in. He opens the door, peeking through it at first, not wanting to barge in there and scare her.

His gaze goes to the bed, but it’s empty.

The room is dark, so she must’ve hit the lights and as his eyes adjust to the dark, he makes out her small frame hung over on the floor, back to the wall, knees pulled up.

“Gwen?” He asks again, carefully taking another step into the room.

“I think I’m done.” She whispers, her head still facing the floor. “I think I should just go home, whatever the hell that means.”

He takes her words as enough affirmation that she doesn’t dismiss him, and he walks close enough until he’s able to crouch down in front of her.

“I don’t think you’re done here.”

“But I am.” She counters, her head looking up at him. “I was done here before I even arrived. We both know it.”

He shakes his head. “Come on, let’s get you into bed. You need some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He holds his hand out for her, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t want rest. God damnit, can’t you take a hint?”

Her outburst no longer scares him, so instead he just exhales and sits down on the floor with her.

“Ok, so then what _do_ you want?” He asks. “Besides going home.”

She looks at him as if she’s about to rip into him, but instead her eyes just well up and the first few sobs escape her lips. Her head lowers again and she waits to let the sobs wreck through her until her gaze is back on the floor.

Out of all the reactions he expected, this one wasn’t one of them.

He shifts on the floor until he’s sitting next to her, his arm pulling her closer. She tenses for a few seconds before relenting, trusting him.

He doesn’t move when she lets herself lower her head on his lap. She grips his knee with her hand, squeezing hard as she continues to cry.

His hand softly smooths some hair out of her face, as he feels his own crack at seeing this incredible human being break on him. He figures it’s been a long time coming and can’t imagine her having had many opportunities like this; for her to just break, to not always be strong, to trust someone to be this vulnerable with.

“I can’t seem to write without you, all my sessions have been crap.” She sobs breathily. “I can’t focus on anything and all I can think about is what’s waiting for me back home, and how much I continue to give up for this dream that’s just not for people like me. And God….” She lets out a bitter laugh that’s immediately followed by another sob. “The only man I’ve ever met who _won’t_ hurt me, the only man I’ve ever truly been in love with, is _married_.”

“Gwen, sweetheart— “

“I’m too broken, too damaged, and no amount of _rest_ will be able to change that.”  
  
“And drinking it away will?” He asks carefully, voice soft.

“Better than the alternative.”

“Which is what?”

She grips his knee again, sniffling. “Going home, calling up some people I shouldn’t be calling, losing my dignity in the worst way.”

“There’s gotta be more options than that.” Blake says, subconsciously tightening his hold on her.

“I’ve tried every other option, Blake. I’ve been good, I’ve done the straight and narrow. I worked hard, I cut off toxic people, I got a stable job, I moved out into my own apartment. Look where it got me?”

“To here, which really isn’t that bad— “

“Still broken, still messed up.” She cuts him off again.

“Then what’s your plan?” Blake challenges her. “Going home, calling your ex-boyfriend? Settling for a life full of _what_?”

She chuckles bitterly. “Sex and booze, mostly.”

“Sounds lovely.” He says sarcastically.

“At least it won’t be disappointing. At least I’ll know what I’m in for and right now, that’s all I want. I want stability, even if that means stable misery.”

He shakes his head, stroking the back of her head.

“Gwen, I know it’s scary to take these big risks, I know it’s scary to open up to the possibility of living a life that feels bigger than yourself, but that’s what you were meant to do. You have a serious gift that deserves to be nurtured. _You_ are someone who deserves to be nurtured and taken care of.”

“And who’s gonna do that, huh? You?”

“No.” He says firmly. You.”

“I’m too tired…” She whispers.

“I know you’ve had to survive in situations I can only imagine, and I know you’re used to doing everything by yourself, but you don’t have to do that anymore. I’m so serious Gwen, no matter what happens with this contract thing, you won’t lose me.”

“I will only hurt your brand.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that.” He says just a bit too forceful, exhaling deeply and lowering his voice a little. “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He holds her close, shrugging.

“Guess we’re both a little broken then.”

She muffles her response into his leg, obviously disagreeing.

He can tell that most of her fight is leaving her body as she gives into the fatigue and alcohol running through her veins.   
  
“Will you let me help you get into bed?” He asks softly, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She lets out a shaky breath and nods.

”Come on, I got you.”   
  
He nudges her to sit up straight, helping her to her feet. She stumbles into him a little, her hand desperately clutching his shirt. He readjusts her so he can lift her in his arms, carrying her over to the bed bridal style. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

”Shhh, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

He hates how her body is still shaking quite a bit, the sobs that wrecked her body and the initial fear she felt still present.   
  
He lowers her onto the mattress, her hand still clutching the fabric over his chest protectively, as she lays down and curls up under the blankets.

He sits down next to her on the bed, careful not to make any sudden moves or startle her.

”Gwen...” He begins, not sure how to verbalize this next part. “I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t know how else to show you that, but I want to. I will earn your trust, but I need you to promise me that you’ll let me.”

“I know you’re not here to hurt me.” She whispers, retracting her hand from his shirt. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t.”

”You can’t live your whole life afraid that people might hurt you.” 

“I’ve been doing just fine.”

”Till now.” He gently challenges her. “Gwen, you’re crashing right now and I need you to realize that. I need you to _see_ it, so you won’t let it ruin what you’ve got going here.”

He normally wouldn’t be so blunt with her, especially not while she’s still technically drunk, but he can’t take any chances.   
  
She might not even talk to him in the morning so he needs to get this out now.

”I’m _fine_.” She says, voice breaking as another tear glides down her cheek.

He hums. “I don’t think you are at _all_.”

”I’m too tired for this, Blake. Can we please take this up in the morning?”

He sighs deeply, rubbing a hand through his hair.

”Yeah.” He nods, watching as she closes her eyes and curls up into the covers some more.

He doesn’t move until she’s drifted off, and it’s with a heavy heart that he exits her bedroom and walks a straight line until he feels the cold night air on his cheeks. 


	11. A Force That Comes Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝑜 𝒟𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 - 𝐸𝓍𝒸𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑀𝑒, 𝑀𝓇.

She could use another drink if she were honest.

These sessions went slow—impossibly slow without him and she’s starting to think that perhaps she can’t be an artist without losing her sanity.

The ideas she’s come up with since she stopped working with Blake have been very underwhelming and though no one will straight up tell her...she _knows_.

Eli has decided to sit in on this session for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, since no song has been finished so far and there’s no need for his producing skills yet. She doesn’t feel like fighting it though because strangely enough, being in here with Blake’s good friend makes her feel a little closer to the label exec himself.

“I think we’ve got something here.” Jeff expresses with a smile, circling a paragraph of lyrics for her on the sheet. “This is cool, just give it a little more.”

She frowns, getting frustrated.

“I can’t give it _more_.”

“Sure you can.” He says, playing a boring lick on the guitar.

She doesn’t mean to come off as ungrateful, but these ideas they’ve been throwing out here haven’t been _her_ at all. They’re asking for risky lyrics with incredibly safe instrumentals and she feels herself brimming with restlessness.

Until Eli’s voice cuts in and manages to pull her out of that.

“Do you play Gwen?”

She looks across the room to the producer sitting on the sofa in the back. He’s been keeping to himself in the dark mostly, minding his own business until now.

“I know a few chords, that’s about it.”

Eli hums.

“You’re bored.”

She can feel the blood rushing to her ears. She hasn’t even been signed yet and here he is exposing that ugly truth for everyone to hear. If this doesn’t blow her chances to hell, she doesn’t know _what_ will.

“I’m not, I’m just….” She shakes her head, stuttering. “I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just not very inspired by these uhm, sounds?”

“What would you rather hear?” Eli asks calmly.

She exhales exasperatedly, completely unprepared for being put on the spot like this.

She now understands why he and Blake are so close; both dig for the ugliness that lies way underneath the surface, peeling at an artist’s wounds before it gushes open and bleeds art all over the floor.

“I was thinking something just a little bit darker.” She admits softly, trying to avoid Jeff’s gaze as she talks. “I want it to sound moody, like impending darkness after a horrible day. Something ugly yet comforting. This all sounds too pretty.”

Eli nods and then stands up, walking to the front of the room. He sits down on the chair next to her, motioning for Jeff’s guitar. “May I?”

Where she expected to see an ego, Jeff is comfortable enough sharing the spotlight and easily hands over the precious instrument.

Eli strums it a few times, looking at Gwen and then nodding.

“Just tell me when it sounds more like what you’re looking for.” He speaks softly, strumming the guitar until a moody melody flows out.

She closes her eyes, her brain flashing with images of Blake. It’s embarrassing to admit to herself how much of her day is spent thinking about the business man.

The sounds Eli produces so easily fill the room, her heart constricting painfully. It’s not exactly what she had in mind yet, but he’s undeniably getting warmer.

She wonders if Blake realizes just how much he’s changed her life in the little amount of time he’s spent with her. She wonders if he knows how terrified she is for the moment this all ends and she’ll go back to a life where he’s not a part of. She wants to believe it when he said he’d be there for her no matter what, but no one has ever come through on that promise before, and nothing that has happened here is making her believe Blake will somehow be different.

Believing a man like Blake would be like letting the fire into her home. And if her mother thought her anything when she was little, it was that you don’t play with fire.

The guitar produces a sound so melancholy now, it reminds her of a future she missed out on and a past she never had. It makes her feel like she’s finding and losing Blake all over again and she finally opens her eyes when she feels the tears staining her cheeks.

She’s crying and she’s fucking embarrassed.

She wants to ask Eli to stop playing, but she can’t get her mouth to work. Maybe this is what it means to be fully cracked open by music.

She might not _want_ to, but her mouth has a life of its own—she starts singing.

_It’s almost as if I’m tied to the tracks_  
_And I’m waiting for him to come rescue me_

_The funny thing is he is not going to come_  
_He is not going to find me_

Her voice might sound cracked and ugly, but this is the furthest she’s ever gotten in a session. In a moment that doesn’t even feel like her own, she manages to finish a song she’s been working on even before she called things off with Blake.

_This is the way I guess it has to be_  
_A little of your time_  
_Please, a little of your time_

She’s terrified to meet Eli’s gaze afterwards, but when she does she’s met with the kindest stare. She thinks there might be some _admiration_ there even.

He fades out the melody, nodding at Jeff who’s sitting right behind her.

“You got that, right?”

Gwen’s eyes widen. While she got lost in the music, she didn’t even think about recording it. Thank God some people hadn’t completely lost their minds yet.

“It’s all there.” He smiles, holding his phone up.

“See?” He looks back at Gwen, handing the guitar back to him. “You just need to let yourself get lost in the music and magic is bound to happen.”

“Thank you.” She whispers, still overwhelmed by her own achievement.

“Don’t thank me, this was Blake’s idea.” He says, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.

Gwen feels the air leave her lungs at the mention of Blake. _Of course_ , he told Eli to try this approach with her. He’s always known how to work with her best.

“Talking about that, what time is it?” Eli asks, leaving her slightly confused.

Jeff checks his phone before getting back at him.

“6:55.”

He nods. “We should take a small break.”

Gwen honestly doesn’t even want to argue with that. The song left her drained, the lyrics so real and honest. A break doesn’t sound bad at all.

She goes to stand up, about to head outside to light another cigarette when Eli’s hand on her arm stops her.

“I think you should stay.” He says simply, before offering her a little bit more. “There’s something I think you should see.”

Her brow raises questionably, but she doesn’t leave. Instead she sinks back down on the chair and sighs.

“I really need a smoke.”

“Five more minutes?”

Though she’s confused and a little bit annoyed, there’s something in the producer’s eyes that tells her this will be worth it in the end. It’s weird how she even trusts him a little. He’s the second most beloved person she’s got in here.

She’s about to zone off when she hears the soft sounds of the television, the remote control in Eli’s hand quickly turning up the volume.

Her gaze is now focused on the little tv that hangs on the opposite wall, a face she recognizes but doesn’t know the name of appearing on the screen.

“ _He knows how to bring the most talented people in the world to fame, his ear and heart for music propelling him into one of the most acclaimed record executives in the country. Yet it’s his personal life, that he’s opening up to us about during this candid interview for our Sunday profile.”_

Gwen’s stunned into surreal silence, the rest of the room following soon. The whispers and chatter around her indicate she’s not the only one kept completely in the dark.

Except for Eli. He seems perfectly aware, yet nothing about his features screams calm. She knows him well enough now to see that he’s nervous.

“ _Blake, thank you so much for sitting down and talking to us.”_

She almost can’t believe it when she sees him sitting there, dressed to the nines, his mic clipped on to his shirt.

“ _Thank you for having me. I knew that if I was gonna share such personal details of my life with the public, I wanted to do it in a place that I feel I can trust.”_

“ _You came to the right place. Let’s dive right into it, shall we?”_

_“Let’s do it.”_

Gwen can hardly breathe, her eyes not even blinking, afraid to miss a single second.

“ _We recently learned of the rumour that you and your wife of nearly four years—together for ten—, are getting a divorce due to infidelity issues. I’m sure you can imagine the shock from all of us when we heard this news, Blake. You two have been the power couple for nearly a decade.”_

Blake nods softly, and Gwen almost expects him to get mad, tell the woman she has no business getting that personal, but instead he smiles sadly. Almost as if he expected it.

“ _Just like every other couple, there’s a lot that happens behind closed doors, things the public doesn’t know about. We’ve been together a long time, truly went through a lot together but at the end it just didn’t prove to be right.”_

_“What do you mean by that?”_

_Blake sighs. “A few weeks ago I made a few decisions that seriously harmed the trust she and I had formed over the years. I made the selfish decision to engage in another relationship while still being married to her._ ”

“No…” Gwen whispers, her hand softly clutching the fabric over her heart.

“ _You cheated on your wife?” The interviewer asks to confirm._

_Blake nods. “I did. It’s something I came clean about very early on, and what I want people to take away from this, is that the fairytale image that was portrayed of us wasn’t our reality for a long time. My affair was NOT the reason for our marriage to completely dissolve, but I take full responsibility for the hurt that I caused my soon to be ex-wife.”_

Gwen shares a desperate look with Eli, who looks a little pale himself. She wonders how he must feel as he watches his friend take on all the blame, all the public scrutiny.

“ _Your wife has been extremely quiet about all this. Does that make you feel guilty knowing she’s been so loyal to protecting this secret?”_

Gwen feels like she’s a few seconds away from jumping out of her chair, her eyes filling at the intense grief and shock she feels for Blake in this moment.

“ _She has been incredibly graceful throughout this entire thing and I know that will only pay off for her in the end. She’s not looking for a grand spectacle and those are exactly the classy moves we’ve come to love and respect from her. It’s why I’m sitting here right now, doing this…”_

“ _Some people out there watching might not completely understand why you decided to come forward with this. Would you say you’re doing this to protect your wife from the upcoming media frenzy?”_

“ _Yes.” Blake nods. “And not just her. I did not have a meaningless affair that I felt I had to come clean about. I dragged an innocent girl into my marital problems, one I deeply care about. I want them both to come out of this unscratched. Sometimes you need to sacrifice a bit of your own sanity to protect that of others, and this is one of those times.”_

She doesn’t even care about being embarrassing now, the tears are streaming down her cheeks rapidly.

She didn’t know he was about to do this and had she known, she probably would have tried to talk him out of this. He just went on national television, deciding to take all the blame and hide the infidelity of his own wife, all to protect _her_.

The rest of the room has basically erupted into a frenzy already, but Gwen zones it all out, unable to take her eyes off the screen, off _him_.

“ _I think we need to head to commercials soon, but one last question…” The woman continues eagerly. “Do you regret the affair?”_

Gwen grips the sides of her chair hard, feeling like she’s about to throw up.

“ _I deeply regret hurting my wife, but our marriage was pretty much over already. I regret not leaving sooner and sparing a lot of people a lot of pain, including myself. I just feel like I owe it to everyone involved to get out ahead of this thing.”_

_The interviewer nods. “Thank you so much for your candid honesty tonight, Blake. It’s admirable to say the least.”_

Gwen doesn’t even realize it when they cut to commercials; her and Eli still staring at the screen damn near fixated.

Though it hurts her to have seen him give an interview like this, the reasoning behind it isn’t at all lost on her.

He not only went out in front of this, he used his wife’s own personality in his favour. If she knows one thing about the woman, from her own experiences and Blake’s stories, it’s that she cares about status and stature mostly.

This way, Aubrey will only look like the jealous woman if she tries to smear Gwen’s name now. Someone who’s that thirsty for acclaim, will not risk looking a fool like that. Blake must’ve figured that out too.

He’s built her up so high in this interview, making it nearly impossible for Aubrey to follow through on her threat to expose things. Going along with the image Blake painted of her publically means being seen as the scorned yet gracious woman. She will come out of this as the one who got away, America’s sweetheart—and they all know Aubrey won’t pass up on that.

No matter how much she dislikes Gwen.

“Let’s go.” Her head snaps up to the sound of Eli’s voice, his hand tapping her on the shoulder. He walks out in front of her, nodding with his head towards the back exit and waiting for her to follow.

She’s beyond nervous all the sudden. This is Blake’s friend and he probably knows about everything. There’s no way he’s not upset with her for ruining Blake’s image this way.

Her eyes cast down when she stands in front of the producer, leaning against the wall. He makes sure no one’s eavesdropping or close enough, when he speaks softly.

“He told me he was gonna do this, but damn it’s crazy to actually see him go through with it.”

Gwen shakes her head, a few broken breathes escaping her.

“Did he tell you….?”

Eli nods. “A few days ago. He had to share it with someone. Especially after you cut him off.”

“I _had_ to.” She whispers defensively. “His wife could’ve exposed me before I even got started and he made me believe she wouldn’t. He lied.”

“Did he?” Eli challenges her. “Because I think I just saw him go on live television to tell the whole world he fucked up and singlehandedly took all the power away from Bree, making sure she _wouldn’t_ do that.”

Gwen lowers her gaze again, her heart still beating loudly against her chest.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She whispers.

“I know.” Eli’s soft voice surprises her. “Love catches people by surprise, it just happens sometimes.”

Her head snaps up at him and he chuckles lowly.

“Come on, let’s cut the crap. We both know that man loves you.”

She shakes her head. “How are you not more upset with me right now?”

“Gwen.” He sighs. “I’ve seen my friend down for years now. I’m not happy with what happened or with the shit storm he just brought onto himself, but I can tell he’s happy when he’s around you. Sometimes, that just weighs more than anything else.”

She feels the air get stuck in her throat, fear and excitement both settling in her body.

“It’s not allowed.”

“He didn’t mention you were his artist for a reason.”

She nods. “How could this ever work?”

The producer shrugs.

“It’s not really my place or my business to answer that. All I want to say is please talk to him. You’re not the only one who feels a little broken here….” He says softly, sweetly, before squeezing her shoulder once more. “Sometimes the strongest people in the world need some guidance too.”


	12. All Eyes On You

He’s sitting in the back of a dated, musty Sedan, one of his hands curled around the side door handle.

There’s a twinge of pain working through his right shoulder, something that would happen whenever he was underneath immense stress. Only he was prepared for it this time. The night air whips at his side profile through the slightly open silver window.

They’ve been driving for an hour and a half, the whole world passing him by in those minutes. He watches people go about their lives, oblivious to how his has just been blown up. He doesn’t try to spark up conversation with the driver and neither does the man behind the wheel, causing the whole ride to be surprisingly peaceful.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror. He’s lived with himself long enough to recognize the bits of anger and fear rippling across his face, the muscles in his jaw jumping feverishly in response to what happened tonight.

He’s angry that his wife gave him no other option, is so incredibly fond of attention and stature that he realized going on television to look like the villain would be too good of an opportunity for her to pass up on. He knows his reputation will forever be tainted by this, but he also knows he saved Aubrey’s, and that will be enough for her to back off.

He’s fearful because as much as his wife will run with this story he weaved for them, he’s also aware that the whole reason Aubrey was able to threaten him to begin with, was because letting people in on his personal life was a fearful thing for him.

He learned early on that hardships were meant for you to go through alone and no one would sympathise with you the way you hoped they would. Aubrey simply used his fear of having his personal life out in the tabloids, knowing he’d never do _this_ , and therefore held all the power into her own hands.

He took it back tonight.

Despite the fear and anger running through him, he’s relieved as well.

“We’re here, sir.”

He opens his eyes to witness the gates opening for them, driving up the familiar driveway until he’s in walking distance of his own rented house on the premises.

He nods at the driver with gratitude, his heart pounding when some of the producers and writers had been outside their homes to witness him come back. He’s sure they all watched the Tracy Smith interview. He opens the door reluctantly, glad to see Eli as one of the first people to approach him. He sighs before being wrapped into one of their significant bearhugs. He pats the producer’s back twice.

“How is she?”

Eli tightens his embrace for a second, then pulling back to nod at him.

“She’s shocked. Majorly.”

Blake scratches the back of his ear. “Yeah, I think most of us are.”

“Aubrey came back a few hours ago. She’s making quite the scene while getting her stuff out of here.”

He swallows roughly, not surprised to hear it.

“I should probably go over there first.”

They both know he’s much more eager to go see Gwen, find her and explain it all to her the best he can, but he’s got some things to deal with first. Aubrey has been his wife for four years, he shared his bed with her for nearly a decade—she had to be his first stop and they both know it.

Eli nods.

“Take care man. You know where to find me.”

±

It was even worse than he thought. Some people had been looking on as Aubrey parked her car right in front of their door, dragging out a single suitcase to slam into the trunk. She was now moving on to singular objects that he advised her not to bring here—travelling lightly was his way of living—and his wife’s obsessive need to bring _everything_ often worked on his nerves.

She’s making a show of bringing them out one by one, keeping her head down as if the onlooking crowd _wasn’t_ part of her plan.

Blake’s leaning against the wall right beside the door, shielding himself from everyone else outside. “Can you just close the door? We’ll get all your stuff in a bag together without an audience.”

“Oh, because being lowkey is so important to you?” She mocks under her breath. “Mister prime time television.”

“I did you a favour.”

She brings a few jewellery boxes down from upstairs and puts them in a large satin bag, the door still open.

“That’s one way to call it.”

“What would _you_ call it, Bree?” He asks tiredly.

“Damage control.” She states, dropping her bag onto the backseat and sending an overly emotional glance to the few people who are still watching from their own doorsteps. She walks back inside and rests her hand on the door handle. “That was you saving that whore of yours.”

His pulse starts to thrum as he locks eyes with her.

“You’ll have the whole nation falling at your feet.” He manages to get out. “They’ll all despise what I did to ya and no one ever has to know what you did. It’s the perfect place to be in.”

She nods sarcastically. “That’s why you did it? We both know I will look like the worst type of person if I decided to plaster the name of the girl you slept around with publicly now, after you’ve been so graceful to take all the blame in such a big way. _After_ basically telling the whole world that would be a move so beneath me…”

“So don’t do it.” He dares to say.

She looks out of the door, her whole demeanour screaming that she wants to get out of here and he for once shares her restless attitude.

“I won’t.” She says, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m gonna leave this place, I’m gonna move out of that boring block of cement you call a house and I’m gonna thrive after this, Blake. I won’t even give you or Gwen a second thought.”

As much as this is the outcome he hoped for, it still feels incredibly heavy to say goodbye to such a prevalent chapter in his life, one he thought would last forever.

“I filed for the divorce papers two nights ago, I’ll get them to you to ASAP.”

Aubrey scoffs, looking around the place to make sure she didn’t forget anything and then walks out to her car without a word. He watches as she closes the trunk and walks over to him one last time, handing him the duplicate key.

“Thank you.” He says softly, taking it from her.

She rolls her eyes, still not saying anything as she gets into the driver’s seat and revs the engine obnoxiously loud before driving off the premises.

±

He meant to go over to Gwen’s place as soon as it was all over with, but after his wife had left the retreat, all he could do was stare mindlessly at the closed door.

He was unable to move from the couch, the chill of everything that transpired tonight settling into his body until he was aching all over. Feelings of fear, of relief, of despair where all starting to culminate in the depths of his chest.

Gwen hadn’t even talked to him in the last few days and even though he just stopped Aubrey from potentially ruining Gwen’s career before it even got started, he still put her in a position where that was an option. He should’ve thought about that before he went to her room that one notorious night. He’s been listening to his mind over his heart all these years, why did he suddenly change his MO with Gwen?

He knows he must be white as a ghost, his eyes starting to prick with tears, because he can feel himself shutting down.

The soft knocks on his door get his attention, but he’s too tired to get up.

“Blake, are you in there?” Gwen’s hesitant yet surprisingly firm voice asks from behind the door. “If you are, could you please let me in? I need to talk to you.”

Even just hearing her voice fills him with some form of salvation. Even when he feels like he has nothing left in the tank and physically and emotionally wants to fold his cards well before the game is over, she manages to get him back on his feet.

Literally.

His heart hammers in his chest as he approaches the front door, hand on the handle. He feels the same bout of adrenaline he felt right before sitting down with Tracy to talk about his shortcomings, the same adrenaline he felt when he knocked on Gwen’s door before she let him in that one night, in more ways than one.

“ _Blake_?”

Her eyes widen when she takes him in. Her hair is down and she’s wearing a black skirt with a white cardigan.

He doesn’t let her in right away and she doesn’t ask to be let in again either. They just stare at each other for a few moments and he can feel the red heat starting to creep up on his neck. He watches as she sucks in a ragged breath, a tear slipping down her cheek. He’s nearly trembling to take her into his arms, but he knows better than that now.

The air around them is so thick he feels like he’s at risk of choking on it. Everything he did tonight could be traced back to this human being standing in front of him right now and he feels the magnitude of emotions hitting him all at once.

She swallows roughly. “I watched you on tv.”

He wants to chuckle at her words, the admission so obvious it really didn’t need to be spoken out loud, but somehow it only makes the statement that much more innocent.

“Wanna come in?”

She nods quickly, a soft and sad smile gracing her features when he steps aside. His eyes follow her as she walks into the living room, her eyes scanning the place slowly. She has never been in here; the only time they’ve spent together was done at her place, the studio, or his office.

“Can I offer you anything?” He asks lowly, in the process of walking towards the kitchen.

Her hand reaches out for his wrist, stopping him from walking away from her. His eyes widen, his gaze going from her grip on him to her face. She looks as fearful as he feels, but he doesn’t point it out.

Her finger smooths over his wrist as she looks up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“ _Yes_.” He croaks, and that’s when he hears the raw emotion break in his own voice.

He knows no part of this is okay, and his eyes start to prick with long overdue tears and he takes a shaky breath to try and prevent them from spilling over.

He had been on autopilot for most of the evening; fuelled by adrenaline and the need to get them all out of this mess he’d caused. But now he’s feeling the pure and unfiltered feelings and emotions he hadn’t let himself feel before and it’s rattling his body unbelievably so.

“It isn’t fair you had to do this to protect me.” She whispers, holding his gaze. “It’s my fault you’re in this position right now and I’m…. I’m really sorry about that, Blake.”

The room slows down after she says it, every part of his being aching to turn this around.

“I made my bed, Gwen.” He whispers. “I can handle what’s coming next. I still don’t regret what happened between us. I think if this whole thing showed me _one_ thing it’s that I never could regret us. I can survive the whole world turning on me, but not you. Please not you.”

"I never turned on you, I'm just..." She sighs, still holding his wrist. He's afraid to make a move, not sure what is and what isn't allowed anymore. "I just needed to figure out what to do here. A lot was at stake and still is."

He nods. "I know."

He wants to say more, but words seem to be failing him. All he can think about is how he almost lost this immaculate person in front of him. 

"Blake, you don't have to be strong for me right now. I know you're hurting."

He shrugs. "I'm fine, Gwen. I'm just glad we got this over with."

"You went on national television and admitted to having an affair. You can't tell me you're fine."

"But I am."

If there's one thing he doesn't want to do, it's reveal how he's truly feeling. He cannot be sure that he'll be able to pick himself back up once he allows himself to break. 

"Eli and I watched you." She says softly, holding his gaze. "We all did. The whole _world_ did."

"Gwen.."

"You've worked so hard for everything, did everything right, all to have it come down to this _one_ situation. Your whole life is on display for the rest of the world to see and judge, and pick apart."

"And that's my fault." He says, voice breaking. "That's on me, I did that. I knew what I was doing when I came over that night, I knew what I wanted and I knew it wasn't Bree. It was you, and if that makes me a horrible person, so be it. I can handle it."

He watches her swallow roughly, her grip on his wrist tightening. 

"I know you can handle it, Blake." She says sweetly, the way she says it making him believe her instantly. "But if you're tired of being strong for a second, I want you to know that I'm here."

He finally tugs her closer by her arm, wrapping her up in a hug when she's pressed against his chest. His head lowers down on her shoulder, while one of her hands presses at the back of his neck. It's an awkward position due to his height, but they make it work somehow. 

"I couldn't stop thinking about you during the whole thing." He admits. "When she was askin' me all those questions, I just reminded myself why I was doing it. You are the reason I do most of the things I do lately and if that's too much pressure for you, I understand. You don't have to take me back, or even give me the time of day if you don't want to. I didn't do this because I wanted to manipulate you back into my arms. I just wanted to do whatever I could to protect you. I don't want you to resent me."

"Shhh." He can feel her shake her head, her mouth pressing a soft kiss against his ear. "I know that's not why you did it."

"I don't think I could take it if you started hating me too." He whispers.

He wants to pull away when he notices a few tears falling onto her shoulder, but she pushes against him determinedly enough to show him she's not with that. He's too tired to fight her on it and instead sighs into the crook of her neck, letting him hold her the way she wants to.

"I could never hate you." She says, sniffling herself. "I tried for a few days, but I can't. I don't know where to go from here, but I _do_ know that I want to be here for you. You gotta let me do that, okay?"

He nods, pulling away once more and this time she lets him. He looks at her with teary eyes, no longer hiding his emotions from her. He's surprised when one of her fingers darts out towards his face and wipes away at some of the moisture there. 

"I'm glad you're here."

She continues to dry his cheeks, standing so close to him still, he can feel her breath on him as she speaks.

“Is she… _really_ gone?”

He smiles softly, nodding.

“She moved out. She’s about to move out of our Mulholland house as well. The papers are filed. We’re done.”

“You think she’ll sign them?”

“No doubt in my mind.”

She swallows roughly.

“Are you mad at me?”

He moves forward, grabbing her cheek firmly, forcing her to look up at him.

“You pulled away from me because I made you a promise I couldn’t keep and then lied about why exactly that was. Though I did it to protect you, I understand why you left. Why you needed to work with someone else.” He says the words softly, his gaze shifting between her eyes and her lips. “You’re the only person who truly gets me. I know the two of us could be seen as controversial but it doesn’t feel wrong, does it? Tell me if it does, because I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have. I don’t want to be one of those people for you, Gwen…”

She lets out a breath after he’s done, their eyes locking, both trying to gauge each other’s mindset. He can see compliance in her stare and its moments before she is lifting upward, her mouth grasping his lower lip between hers and _sucking_.

His mind is reeling; they’ve kissed before but there’s an intensity in the room now that is palpable. She moves against him and he grasps her cheek more tightly in response, tilting her face and sliding his tongue between her lips.

She moans as if surprised by the sudden escalation, but he can tell they both need more than their lifetime of deprivation has given them.

He runs a free hand up her shirt, trailing the base of her spine before he moves upward once more. A few waves of silence pass between them when only slick kisses and breathy exhales can be heard.

His hands are roaming her skin, testing, teasing, fingers knocking underwire but he knows their touches can only be superficial tonight. Too much has happened and taking her upstairs and getting her into bed now would not be fair.

She pulls back with a slick pop, a sound leaving her throat as they just stare at each other.

 _"I'm sorry_." She whispers. "I had to."

He chuckles. "No need to apologize, baby girl."

“Do you think it’s possible for us to work together again”? She whispers quietly. “I don’t want to do this without you anymore.”

He smiles down at her.

“You never did.” He flicks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It would be my honour to continue working with you officially though.”

She rises onto her tiptoes again and descends her mouth on his once more. His eyes slip closed as she nudges his lips back open, ending all and any conversation. He can feel it in the depths of their silence, a quiet desperation.

They aren’t convinced a future between them is even possible, but as her lips slide across his, they can at least for a moment pretend that it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we still into this?


	13. You're My Favorite Kind Of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for comments and the love on Twitter <3

Gwen has her eyes closed, leaning against his chest. His strong arms around her encase her completely, his fingers lazily strumming the strings of his guitar.

It’s the safest and happiest he’s felt in a long time, and that’s saying something since the whole world learned of his infidelity five days ago. The media has had a field day with this information, every news outlet brimming with the desire to write about it. It has been strangely comforting to no longer have to play the part of perfection though, and as long as Gwen doesn’t judge him, he thinks he’ll be alright.

“Was it bad?” She asks softly, though he can hear the smile in her voice. “It feels a little rough around the edges still.”

He stops strumming briefly.

“That was _amazing_ , Gwen.” He says seriously, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “You’re outdoing yourself each session. Trust me on that.”

He places another soft kiss on the back of her neck, lowering the instrument to the floor. He peppers her neck and shoulders with kisses until she’s giggling, trying to get out of his grasp.

She turns around in his embrace, biting her lip.

“You’re sweet. It’s what I like the most about you.”

Blake looks at her almost reverently. “I’m sorry that feels so foreign to you.”

She smiles sadly, her hand moving to cover his. She squeezes his fingers before speaking up again.

“I haven’t done this thing in a really long time.” She admits. “Having feelings for someone and actually trying to make it work together. I know things are complicated between us and if this ever came out— “

“It _will_ come out at some point, I won’t keep this a secret forever, Gwen. That’s not what I want.”

“How would it work?” She asks timidly, her hazel eyes impaling his blue ones.

Blake shrugs. “It’s not _that_ crazy. We might have to wait a little while for your career to take off on its own, so the news about the relationship won’t overshadow anything. But after that, I’d say we just go for it. We’re both adults, and as much as it can be frowned upon, it’s not illegal or anything.”

It’s the first time he’s openly talked about the future with her, and he’s secretly nervous to see how she’ll react.

“Aren’t you nervous about the backlash?”

He chuckles. “Darlin’, I just told the whole world I had an affair. There’s no backlash that can compare to this kind of scrutiny, so I think I’m well prepared.”

“ _Blake_ …”

“It’s okay, Gwen. I don’t want to hide us forever, I don’t want this to feel like it’s wrong, or like it’s something we shouldn’t be doing. I don’t want that and it’s not fair to you either.”

“I just want to do what’s right.” She says, biting her lip. “I don’t want to ruffle anymore feathers.”

His thumb strokes her cheek, her soft features making him ache to touch her.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of whatever happens next, trust me okay?”

She sighs, casting her gaze down. “It’s hard.”

He nods.

“I know.” A few moments of silence pass. “Can you try?”

She looks up at him again, her eyes looking slightly glossy now.

“I do trust you though.” She whispers, leaning even further into him, her forehead almost touching his. “It’s just that everytime I’ve ever gotten my hopes up, something bad happened to screw it all up. It’s like I learned to always keep a wall up, make sure that nothing bad could every truly hurt me like that again.”

“I can’t foresee the future or promise that nothing bad is ever going to happen, but I _can_ tell you that I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

She smiles softly. “I’m sorry about the things I said when I was drunk the other day. I didn’t mean them.”

He’s surprised to hear her bring it up, the whole fiasco something he tried hard to leave behind him.

“You don’t have to apologize for that anymore, baby. It’s over, we moved on from that.”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I still think about it quite often. I hate the things I said to you.”

He holds her closer to him, his arm tightening around her lower back.

“You just said you didn’t mean any of ‘em. You don’t have to keep feeling guilty about it, darlin’. I can take it.”

She shakes her head quickly.

“Before I met Tony—the guy from my band— I played gigs in sleazy bars all around the LA area, living out of my car. I met this bar owner who’d let me play a few nights a week, even gave me a place to stay.”

Blake keeps quiet, hearing her out.

“I slept on his couch for weeks. It was starting to feel like things were going up for me; I had escaped my foster home, made some money performing at his bar, had a place to sleep, it felt _great_.”

“But something went wrong?” Blake asks carefully.

She scoffs, then chuckles softly.

“You could say that. I guess red flags should’ve ensued when this thirty-something man took in a random sixteen-year-old, but at the time I couldn’t even let myself care about that. I just needed a place to stay.”

Blake can feel his heart twisting in his chest, but stays quiet.

“He told me things at the bar were slowing down a bit and that he’d have to cut back on my performances.” She shakes her head softly. “Those performances were the only thing keeping me afloat, I couldn’t lose that. I also knew that without that gig, I wouldn’t be able to stay at his house and I just didn’t want to go back to living out of my car. It felt like the small portion of happiness I managed to find was slowly being ripped away from me again.”

“Did he kick you out?”

She looks up at him with a guarded look in her eye, her hands dropping to her lap.

“I wish.”

He takes a few moments to take in her words, the silent implication of them too heavy to bear. His jaw twitches in anger.

“Did he touch you?”

“He told me I could stay, even could keep the gig at his bar, as long as I was willing to pay him some other way.”

Blake’s hand balls in a fist at his side.

“Son of a bitch…” He hisses, looking at her intensely. “Gwen, did you— “

“I did, I’m sorry.” She sniffs, looking back down at her hands. “If this makes you want to stop whatever it is we’re doing, I get it.”

He shakes his head, cupping her cheeks with both hands, forcing her gaze up at him.

“Gwen, that’s not it honey.” She looks at him so fearfully, it breaks his heart. “You did nothing wrong, he was the adult, he took _advantage_ of you.”

“I knew what he was doing was wrong.” She says, biting her lip. “I mean goddamn, I spent years in foster care, surrounded by people who didn’t really care about my wellbeing. I can spot a creep when I see one. It’s just that I didn’t care…. I mean, not enough. I wanted a place to stay and I figured if _he_ wouldn’t hurt me, someone else would. I was just numb to it.”

Blake swallows roughly, dizzy with disgust and sadness for her.

“How did you get away from that situation?”

“One day I came home from the bar, having just played a gig and he was there waiting for me. _Drunk_. I told him no, that I was tired, and he hit me. _Hard_. I went downstairs to sleep in my car that night and the next morning when he went off to work, I went back upstairs, got my small bag of stuff and drove off. Never saw him again.”

Blake exhales heavily.

“Do you remember his name?”

“Yeah, Dave F—” Her eyes widen all the sudden, her hands grabbing his wrist. “Blake no, I need you to leave this alone.”

“Dave, who?” He presses.

She shakes her head, cupping his cheeks now.

“He doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want you to get involved or do anything stupid.”

“He never had to suffer any consequences for what he did to you, Gwen. Give me his last name.”

She shakes her head, her hands tightening against his cheeks. “Listen to me carefully, Blake. You are the only thing I care about. You and this record deal. All I want is to focus on those two things while letting the past be the past.”

“Gwen— “

She kisses him softly, her lips locking with his without deepening it. She stays close to his lips even when she breaks the kiss, shaking her head still.

“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers. “There’s nothing you could do anyway. It will be his word against mine.”

“I want to protect you. Let me do that.”

She smiles at him sweetly, tracing the outline of his tattoo with her finger.

“I don’t need you to protect me.” She whispers. “I need you to be there for me in the same way I promise I’ll be there for you. I need this relationship to be based on equal footing, despite the fact you’re technically my boss. I _need_ for you to hold me, touch me, and don’t let go.”

“You’ve got my word on all of these things, Gwen.” He says softly, caressing her cheek. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to help too.”

“You already do. Just be here with me, don’t let me go. Don’t mess this up….” She grins, biting her lip before kissing him again.

He pulls away with a smirk.

“Mess this up?”

She hums. “You’re very lucky you know that?”

“I do actually.” He kisses her swiftly. “But do tell me.”

She shrugs. “I don’t like many people.”

He chuckles. “You say that, but then you bleed yourself dry in your songs, right here in the studio, and something inside me tells me you _do_ love people.”

He knows it’s a wall she puts up to protect herself, and as much as he understands, he also hopes she’ll be able to feel comfortable enough to let it all the way down soon.

“I love the people who want to hear me sing and see me perform. And I love the ones I write about. Which is a short list to be honest.”

“Hmmm, let’s try something alright?” He says suddenly, tapping her hip to indicate he wants her to stand. She pouts as he breaks their embrace, but she scrambles onto her feet nonetheless. “Grab the lyric sheet.”

He picks up the guitar from the floor, standing at the other side of the room.

He watches as Gwen’s eyes glance over the piece of paper again, seemingly admiring the work they’ve done. They finally finished Excuse Me, Mr and he couldn’t be happier about it. It’s the type of song he always knew she’d be able to make. Now _she_ does too.

“What now?” She asks.

“You wrote it, you know what you want it to sound like, now perform it.”

Her eyes widen, her face contorting into pure shock.

“You want me to perform it, right now?” She stammers. “Uh uh. No way.”

“Why not?” He challenges her. “You’ve performed for so many people already, doing gigs all over town. Why not for me, right here in this room?”

“Because….” She shakes her head as if he grew two heads. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Gwen blinks at him, her youthful eyes brimming with fear and excitement.

“I don’t know…. what if you hate it?”

He leans his guitar against the wall, taking a few steady strides over to where she’s standing. He can tell she sucks in a breath when he’s close enough to touch her cheek. His finger traces her chin, and slightly up to her jawbone.

“I could never hate anything you come up with.” He says lowly, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, softly gripping. “One day you’ll realize that.”

She looks up at him, her eyes getting slightly darker.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” She whispers, teasingly.

He smiles, knowing that if he does right now, that’s not where it’ll end. And as much as he wants that, as much as he _plans_ to, he wants her to sing for him first.

“Later.”

He lets go of her altogether, smiling to himself when she lets out a heavy sigh. The tension has been growing between them ever since his wife left, and he knows for a fact that he won’t be able to contain himself much longer.

“Fine, play the damn song.” She chuckles, shaking out some of her fears.

“You got this.” He encourages her before easing them into the intro of the song.

The moment she opens her mouth to sing, a different kind of emotion comes out. It’s like the relief of finishing the song, combined with the new dynamic between them, makes her even more aware of the lyrics that she’s singing.

He follows every movement of her body, even the ones she doesn’t know she’s making. She always feels the music with every fibre of her being, but watching her sing her finished song to him without the confinements of a studio, makes him that much more eager to watch her perform for a crowd soon.

She looks at him while fading out the second verse, easily transitioning into the chorus. She doesn’t need the sheet anymore to memorize the lyrics, she’s got them drilled in her head from all the times she’s had to sing it in the booth.

Her body sways just a little as she lets the gut wrenchingly honest words spill from her lips. He can tell she misses performing by the way she moves and takes charge of the moment.

This is why he asked her to sing for him. He wants her to remember how powerful she is on stage, how much she has to give and how badly people want to listen. It’s a gift to be able to enamour people to the point they want to see you perform, and Gwen’s got in tenfold.

When the final chords wine down and her voice fades out, they’re left simply looking at each other.

She looks a bit surprised at her own achievement, her chest heaving softly. She gazes at him quietly, the smile on his face obviously having an effect on her.

“Stop looking at me like that.” She whispers.

“Like what?”

“Like you admire me.”

“Oh, but I do.” He says, lowering the guitar once more and walking over to where she’s standing. His tall frame hovers over her and he watches as she bites her lip in anticipation. “You are magical, Gwen Stefani.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever written a full song with somebody.” She says, sliding her hand up his chest. “And to have it be with _you_ …”

His hand touches the side of her face. “I guess we’re really good together.”

She nods. “Blake, take me upstairs.”

She begins to unbutton his shirt with skilled fingers, his breath stuttering.  
Though he was completely fine with teasing her, he didn’t mean to give her the impression that he was just smooth-talking her to get her into bed. He truly _is_ blown away by her talent.

“Gwen, you don’t have to— “

“—I’m not doing this for any other reason than wanting to be close to you.” She interrupts, raking her finger nail across the exposed skin on his chest. “I want you to take me upstairs, Blake. I want you to have sex with me, in a _bed_ , without that wedding ring.”

He’s kissing her neck in the next moment, halting her tries to get him undressed. He knows it’s a long time coming and if he doesn’t get the words out now, he will most certainly explode.

“I love you.” He says, cupping her cheeks and holding her stunned gaze. “More deeply and more intensely than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.”

The smile on her face is enough to make everything else in the world disappear. He can only think or see her, the rest of the universe falling away.

“ _Blake_ …”

“I love you.” He whispers against her neck, moving up to kiss her soundly on the lips. “I’m gonna show you how much.”

He leads her upstairs, staying close behind her, arm wrapped around her as he pushes her into the bedroom. He takes off her shirt before tugging at her skirt, smiling to himself when she turns around and pushes him onto the mattress.

She lowers down on top of him, kissing him breathlessly.

She gently cups either side of his face, their kiss way slower than it’s been before. Sitting on top of him in nothing but her underwear, she makes for a damn near surreal picture. The first and last time they’ve done this, he didn’t take the time to admire and look at her as much as he should’ve. He’s making up for that now.

She smirks through their kiss, breaking it eventually.

“Stop feeling me up.” She giggles. “You’re distracting me.”

He slowly runs his eyes over her stomach and chest, before meeting her eyes again. His hand stills on her hip. “I can’t help it.”

“Hmmmm, let me see if I can help you with that.” She says next, her voice dropping an octave and her demeanour growing more confident.

She starts kissing down his body, lingering at his hipbone. She looks up at him with hooded eyes, a teasing smile appearing on her lips before she presses them on his sternum and sucks gently.

His hips buck in response but it doesn’t seem to faze her. One of his hands grips the sheet beneath him while the other one itches to grab her head and point her to where he needs her the most. He fights that urge though, incredibly turned on by seeing her take charge like this.

When her hand touches his boxers, there’s a hunger in both their eyes he’s sure he’s never felt or seen before. He feels his cock twitch as he watches her take him in hand, her teeth biting down hard on her lip.

“Do you want me?”

He groans, fisting the sheets tighter. “Shit, yeah.”

She leans down then to nip and lick at his hip again, sucking a red mark into the sensitive skin. He lets out a strangled groan, wishing he could somehow speed things along.

“We gotta work on your patience.” She quips before taking him in her mouth.

Her right hand keeps his hip down from thrusting too much, while Blake’s other hand gently grips her hair. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this type of pleasure before, his whole body tensing up as she quickly works him towards a release.

He damn near comes on the spot when she pulls her mouth off him and licks him from base to tip, obviously enjoying herself.

“Like that?” She asks innocently.

He moves his hand to run his finger against her cheek. “Your mouth feels amazing, baby.”

She pumps him once, twice with her hand before taking him back in her mouth, this time further than before. He lets out sounds he’s pretty sure he’s never let out before, her mouth and hands working to tip him over the edge with a loud groan.

He pulls her back up, her giggle muffled by his mouth as soon as she’s close enough. The fact that he can taste himself off her lips makes him grunt against her mouth.

“Damnit, baby.”

She cups his cheeks, looking down at him.

“Make love to me, Blake.”

Though the words are beautiful to hear, he doesn’t need to be told twice.

He flips them over, kissing her chest and shoulders before snapping her bra off with ease. He looks at her hungrily, ignoring the way her eyes plead with him to go on. Karma is a bitch.

His hands are slow in trailing her hipbone and the small piece of fabric that clings to it. She moves her hips underneath him, rocking into him.

“Blake, please.”

“Didn’t you say something about patience?” He taunts her, kissing her neck. “I remember you saying something about that.”

“Ugh baby, _fuck_.” She hisses when he sucks a hickey into the skin of her neck.

His large arm reaches for the nightstand drawer, where he knows the lube is, but her hand on his arm stops him from reaching for it.

She shakes her head. ”I’m not gonna need it. Please, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He can barely believe this girl is real, but as she starts grinding her hips up into him again, he finally decides to take some mercy on her.

He takes off her panties, reaching his hand in between her thighs to feel how ready she is. He whistles lowly in his throat. “Fuck baby, you weren’t lying.”

She shakes her head quickly. “Blake, _please_.”

He finally guides himself in between her legs, teasing her opening with his tip. He searches for her hands, grabbing them and pushing them back down against the mattress, intertwining their fingers while he pushes into her slowly.

She gasps at the intrusion but relaxes underneath him quickly, her mouth seeking out his again.

She encourages him to go faster which he happily complies with. The sound of their joining and Gwen’s soft moans make his mind spin and his lungs run low on oxygen, but if this is how he was meant to die, then my God he’s ready for it.

“Blake.” She whispers, his name falling off her lips like a prayer.

He nudges her nose, wanting her to look up at him. She does eventually, eyes glossy and needy.

“I got you baby, let go.”

He kisses her swiftly, moving his hips even more determinedly, and smirking against her lips when she lets out a few breathy gasps.

He can tell she’s close; the way her thighs are shaking, and the way her grip on him loosens a bit as the strength leaves her body, are all dead giveaways.

He pushes into her three, four more times before one of her hands manoeuvres out of his grasp and clutches the sheets.

“Oh my god, fuck I’m—“ She cuts herself off, moaning his name loudly.

If there’s one thing he does regret from that one notorious night, it’s that he didn’t take her in the way he is now. He didn’t see her eyes roll back and her face go slack, he didn’t realize she came with her whole body, stuttering and gasping through her release. He missed that the first time around, but never again.

“God baby you’re so gorgeous.” He murmurs, nipping her lip as he chases his own orgasm. “So sexy.” He licks at her bottom lip, smiling when she stirs a little.

Her hand reaches for his lower back, sliding even lower to his ass while pushing him into her more reverently. She wants to see him cum and the realization drives him even closer to the edge.

“ _Gwen_.” He hisses.

She nods, spreading her legs even wider. “I want it.”

He can’t hold it back any longer then, spilling inside of her with a loud grunt.

Her hand cups his cheek as he’s coming down, riding out his high. She lowers his face to hers again, kissing him slowly.

One of his hands strokes delicately through her hair, her features lazy and relaxed. The sight of Gwen coming undone might even be a close second to the look he sees now; pure relaxation and content.

“I can’t wait to do that again.” She whispers with a smile. “We can do that now you’re officially mine.”

He grins down at her. “We can.”

Her hand starts toying with the hairs at the back of his neck, as he can see her work through some things in her head.

“I’ve never had sex like this.” She muses softly, carefully catching his gaze again.

He lowers himself on top of her, no longer straining his arms, but making sure not to put all his weight on her. He ends up half on top of her, his head on her shoulder. It’s a move almost too vulnerable for even him to make.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs, continuing to play with his curls.

“The actual definition of making love. I never had someone take me apart _slowly_ like that. Meaningful.”

“Not even in your relationship with the band member…. what’s his name?”

“Tony.” She chuckles. “No, not really. And that’s not for some sadly tragic reason either—we were just young, always in a hurry, _clueless_.”

Blake hums. “Sex has never been like this for me either. But you deserve to be treasured, Gwen. To be taken care of in every sense of the word.”

Her fingers trail his naked shoulder.

“I like it when you say that.”

He frowns, kissing her collarbone. “When I say what?”

“That you want to take care of me. It’s a little weird, but I like it.”

“Why is weird?”

“Because I’ve always felt like I didn’t need anyone to take care of me, and I _don’t_.” She clarifies. “But it’s nice to know that you _want_ to. I’m starting to think that if you really mean it, I could actually let you.”


	14. Can We Save Tears In Your Eyes?

The water is scolding hot, something she liked. She enjoyed the slight sting of the water on her skin, making her feel everything from comfortability to familiarity. It was even better when she could enjoy these sensations with Blake's body pressed behind her. She was so used to guarding her heart and not her body, it felt so embarrassingly foreign to her when Blake weaved his way in and got her to open up _both_.

She relaxes against him, the warm water of the now full tub rippling against her skin. It might be embarrassing but she can’t remember the last time she’s been in a bathtub; she wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was never. It’s a thought she doesn’t necessarily _want_ to share with him, but the silence though comfortable, seems to speak louder than words.

“You okay back there?” He whispers, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

His hand slides under the water to her thigh, but he doesn’t turn it into something sexual. She almost wishes he _would_ if that meant preventing the next words from stumbling past her lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a bath.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Really?”

She hums.

“Not even as a kid?” He asks, stroking the flesh of her thigh softly.

“Maybe, I don’t remember.” She shrugs, finding his hand on her leg and squeezing his fingers. 

She's feeling embarrassed again, and she's just so tired of feeling that way.

“Hmmm.” He responds ambiguously, getting her attention.

His hands move her carefully, until she’s turned around and straddling his legs. She giggles at the change of position and she uses her hands to scoop up some soap to cover her bare upper body with.

“Why did you just do that?” He asks, his eyes boring into hers. She breaks their gaze eventually, looking down at the pretty marble that outlines the bathtub. 

“Cause I was cold.” She lies.

Sex has always been easy for her, but the intimacy Blake creates so effortlessly _isn’t_ always. It’s actually one of the hardest things for her to succumb herself to.

“Are you nervous about today?” He asks her, not pressing her on the lie if he caught onto it. He kisses her collarbone briefly, waiting for her gaze to find him again. 

“A little. I’m mostly excited though.”

He smiles at her as if she just said the magic words, and she knows to him, she probably did. All he wants is for her to be confident and excited about the process. It's so different from anything she's known before. He sees this powerful version of her that she doesn't always feels is real. But he doesn't just see it; he believes in that version, he _thrives_ off that version.

“I’m absolutely sure they love you already.” He says.

She inhales deeply, letting her arms slide around the back of his neck.

“Do _you_ love me?” She whispers.

His hand slides up her chest and throat, settling at the back of her neck. She knows her hair is brushing his hand, the feeling of him holding her so gently yet firmly setting her whole body ablaze.

“You don’t even have to ask me that.” He answers lowly.

A soft smile appears on her face.

“Do you want to know what I want right now?”

His head lolls back when she kisses up his neck sweetly, feeling his hand tightening its grip on her hip.

“What?”

“For you to show me how much you love me right here in this bathtub, and then again in the bedroom, up until we have to go to that meeting.”

“Jesus.” He whispers, her mouth capturing his in the next moment.

She smiles against his lips, pulling away with a pop but grinding her hips into his once more for encouragement.

“Get to work, _boss_.”

±

The board room is so large it’s quite intimidating on its own, and that’s not even taking into account the four older men sitting across from her. _Plus Blake._ She wishes she had his confidence, his experience in this moment. He seems so comfortable while she’s bursting at the seams.

The table she’s sitting at is of rectangular dark brown wood, shining and perfectly polished. Her nail taps the underside of it a few times to express some of her worst nerves.

“I think we’re all ready to start, right?” The man who introduced himself to her earlier as Arnold states.

The rest of the men nod and she follows suit just because she doesn’t want to be left behind. She doesn’t know why Blake had to sit across from her, instead of next to her, since it only serves to make her feel even more nervous.

It’s as if the table seating is arranged for her to know that he’s on _their_ team, not hers. Hadn’t she known any better, she probably would’ve fallen for it.

“Going into the final week of Gwen’s stay here, we’re here to talk about her future with this label and our vision.” Arnold starts off, talking to her as if she’s not there at all. “Why don’t we start with hearing some songs she’s been working on.” He finally looks over at her, a small and brief smile directed to her. “You want to elaborate on them before we play the tracks you’ve submitted?”

This is the moment she's been working so hard on. She and Blake have gone over the four tracks religiously, talking about its meaning and how she’d sell them for these people right now.

 _The music will speak for itself, don’t force it_.

She tries to keep in mind the words Blake spoke to her each time she’d get in her head about it. Don’t force it. She clears her throat, palms clammy.

“I’m convinced the music will speak for itself.” She says more convincing than she feels. “All I would like to say is that songwriting is where my biggest passion lays and these songs are basically all my feelings poured onto a page.”

She can see some of the men nod, though not completely understanding the sentiment. Except for Blake, he’s beaming at her in a way that’s not so subtle. She feels incredibly seen and validated by it though.

One of the other men, who’s name she remembered to be Jim, presses play on the device that starts the first track.

She hears the intro to The End of Everything starting to play, her breathing speeding up automatically. It’s the first song she finished, the first one she started with Blake, but finished with writers from the assigned team. The lyrics are dark and so is the melody, but she can hear the exact moment Blake stopped being a part of the song. He brings his own touch to every song she records and she’s come to absolutely _obsess_ over it. It’s an obvious absence when it’s not there, hopefully just not to anyone else.

The large speaker provides the final chords of the song before immediately flowing into the next one. Come and Find Me is one she didn’t think she’d have the heart to finish, but thanks to Eli she decided _against_ scrapping it. The lyrics feel just a little too personal and she’s terrified everyone in this room will somehow realize the song is about Blake.

She subtly tries to gauge Blake’s reaction to hearing the song, though he’s heard it a bunch of times before, but he doesn’t show any readable emotions on his face. It’s a stark contrast to the smile he showed her before, but perhaps he’d realized he couldn’t be looking at her like _that_ in a room filled with his colleagues.

By the time Excuse Me, Mr starts playing she’s shifting nervously in her chair. She closes her eyes while the music and lyrics pry her heart open. It’s the craziest experience to play these songs for people who can’t know about her involvement with Blake, when all the lyrics are so on the nose.

The secret is right in front of them, but they’re completely oblivious.

The music fades out and the quiet that follows is one of the most uncomfortable ones of her life. She lets out a breath of relief when Blake finally breaks it.

“Each song got more honest and more raw, which is what we’ve been working on. It’s the type of artist she wants to be and I think it’s missing in today’s industry. Gwen is what we call a breath of fresh air.”

She tries not to let the smile explode over her face like it did Blake’s earlier, but it’s hard. She bites her lip and then adds to his little speech.

“I realize it’s not a very long list, but when it comes to art I think it’s quality over quantity always.”

Arnold nods. “You’re right. I like the songs, Gwen. A lot.”

Her heart nearly explodes at hearing the A&R manager express his positive feedback.

“Thank you.” She expresses softly.

“I’m just worried the vision between artist and label is too divergent in this case.”

Her heart drops in an instant, her eyes going to Blake’s quickly.

“I have to disagree.” Blake says, directing his gaze at her. “Gwen, what is _your_ vision?”

She frowns, afraid to say anything that might oppose to what they want from her here, but she knows Blake wouldn’t have asked her this question if he thought she was gonna say something destructive.

She finds her strength and pushes her tongue against the back of her teeth.

“My vision is to become a _real_ artist. I don’t want to make cookie-cutter music, but I want it to be relatable to many people. I want to be a big star; I want to take over the world with my music and touch people with my lyrics. I want to be myself while I do it.”

“The songs you displayed for us today are great, but wildly different from each other. What genre are you leaning towards?”

“I draw inspiration out of a lot of genres, I don’t want to confine myself to just one.”

“But if you _had_ to?” Arnold pushes. “Which one would it be?”

She opens her mouth but closes it again, looking over at Blake for help. He looks back at her tight-lipped though, apparently not offering any assistance this time.

She swallows roughly. “I performed Ska music when I was still in the band, those rock and reggae influences are where my heart lays I guess. But I want to dabble in pop, too.”

“Still more than one.” Jim intervenes. “Do you have a general idea of who you are as an artist?”

Her heart is racing, the way the question left his lips irking her deeply. She’s still waiting for Blake to intervene at some point, but he’s not.

“I want to be all-encompassing.”

“That gets confusing sometimes. People like to know what artist they’re backing; a chameleon is great on paper, but it often proves to be a burden when executing.”

She shakes her head, suddenly filled with some agitation.

“None of the artist I look up to do only one thing, they change things up, keep things interesting for the listener and themselves. That’s the type of artist I like to be, to answer your question Jim.”

Jim is one of the producers the label has on payroll, and she’d always felt a better connection to Eli, who for some reason isn’t part of this meeting. She misses him.

“You make a very compelling case, Gwen.” Arnold nods, sighing deeply. “The music is great and you definitely possess enough passion.”

She knows there’s a but following that statement, but it never gets spoken because of Blake’s sudden input.

“She’s got passion and heart. I’m very much interested in signing her and I would like to speak to you guys in private to get you all on board too.”

Gwen’s relieved to hear the statement, but she’s still a bit annoyed at how little he actually backed her up throughout the entirety of the meeting.

He asked her a question that could’ve gotten her in serious trouble and then proceeded not to steer her into clear waters at all. She doesn’t know why he suddenly zoned out so much, leaving her to fend for herself, but after the morning they had she secretly excepted _more_.

“Gwen, thank you so much for your time.” Arnold speaks, obviously dismissing her.

“We’re done here, Gwen.” Blake adds when she doesn’t get up, smiling at her softly. “Go enjoy the rest of your day.”

She feels another wave of anger rushing over her as she’s being dismissed _twice_. She pulls her chair back and stands up in a bit of a daze.

“Thanks for all of your time.” She says quickly, turning on her heel and rushing out of the room with a speed that’s alarming.

She leans against the wall the moment she’s closed the door behind her, her breath coming out in heavy spurts. That did _not_ go the way she hoped it would. As confident as she felt this morning after spending it with Blake, as hopeless as she feels right now.

That contract all the sudden seems like it moved a million more miles out of reach. Perhaps it had _always_ been.

±

She’s pacing around her living room, taking in every inch of luxury this place provides. She knows in a week from now she’ll be back at her own apartment. She’s definitely gonna miss the large windows that provide her with a view to die for, and a couch that’s big enough for her to completely stretch out on.

It’s like her brain is in goodbye mode, preparing herself for leaving and accumulating back into her own life. This is still not reality to her and after today’s meeting, she wonders if it ever will be.

The knock on her door stops her pacing and she knows right away that it can only be one person. She hadn’t spoken to him since the meeting and she wonders if he’s been in negotiations ever since she left.

She opens the door and reveals him on the other side, his features a bit more tired than they were this morning.

“You just got out of there?” She asks, stepping aside to let him in.

She tries to keep the resentment out of her voice, but she’s sure Blake notices at least a little bit.

“We had a lot to talk about.” He says, nodding. She keeps her gaze on him, silently urging to go on, needing more answers. He winces. “I don’t have any news for you yet, Gwen. They’re still debating but they loved the material.”

“Just not me.” She whispers, walking towards the kitchen.

She doesn’t know why it’s so hard for her all the sudden. Maybe it’s because she’s so used to people liking what she can _do_ for them, but never believing in the girl these favours or gifts came from.

“They _do_ like you.” Blake disagrees. “This is very normal, Gwen. There’s a lot to talk about when signing an artist. There’s a lot to it. Types of contract, visions, _money_.”

“Did you guys talk about types of contracts to offer me?”

Blake bites his lip. “Not yet.”

“Right.”

“Gwen, this is not my first rodeo. Nothing that happened in that meeting today was weird or even out of the ordinary. We didn’t lose the fight here, trust me.”

She looks up at him angrily.

“Like I trusted you to have my back in there?”

He shakes his head, taking another step towards her.

“I _did_ have your back.”

“Oh come on.” She scoffs. “You told them you were in favour of signing me and then basically left me to fend for myself, just sitting there while they were attacking me.”

He lets out a tired sigh, shaking his head.

“They weren’t attacking you, they were _testing_ you.”

“It felt a lot like attacking to me and you didn’t do a single thing to stop it.” She tells him, her emotions finally reaching a boiling point. “You saw me struggling, heard me stumbling and you just did _nothing_.”

He's quiet for a few beats, swallowing roughly. When he looks at her again, it feels like a hand around her throat, firm and suffocating.

“I didn’t think I had to fight your battles for you, Gwen. I was under the impression that’s exactly what you _wouldn’t_ want from me.”

“You’re the label executive.” She spits out at him, eyes widening. “You fighting my battles in there is literally your job.”

“My _job_ is to sign the best artist to the label, not protect their fragile feelings.”

She scoffs, then turns away from him.

“If that’s how you’re gonna be, you can go.”

“This isn’t about me not doing my job, Gwen.” He tells her instead, his voice strict. “This is about you expecting something else from me because I’m not just someone who works at the label to you. You didn’t want me there as your label exec, you wanted me there as your _boyfriend_.”

She turns around quickly, glaring at him.

“And why is that so bad?”

He sighs. “Because we can’t do that, Gwen. Not only can people not know about us yet, that wouldn’t be ethical. I can’t treat you differently because I like you.”

“I needed you in there.” She whispers, her anger making way for sadness. “I was waiting for you to support me and you just stayed quiet. Do you know how stupid that made me feel?”

“Gwen, come here...” He takes a few steps towards her, nearly closing the distance between them but she takes a large step back.

“No, I’m still angry with you.”

He stands still, looking at her intensely.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Everything.” She hisses. “I literally want everything from you because that’s how much I like you and I’m sorry if I felt like you would fight just a little bit harder for me. Normally when people say they love each other and have each other’s backs, that’s what it means.”

She can tell he wants to fight her on it, but he swallows his words. Something inside her wants to trigger his final resolve, make him lose all control in the same way _he_ did to her while she was in that meeting.

He steps closer to her, ignoring her earlier words. He trails his hand from her earlobe to her neck, and she holds her breath as he runs it over her pulse point. He's trying to show her he still wants her, even though they're angry. She knows he can feel the raging emotions inside of her with a simple thumb measuring her heartbeat.

Instead of words being exchanged, she finds her mouth struggling to keep up with his as he suddenly pulls her into a deep kiss. He manhandles her onto the couch, kissing her again and taking every breath straight from her lungs. She can’t breathe and the force of his kisses are almost painful but she only wants more of it.

This is what she meant when she told him she wanted everything and she's glad she didn't have to say it out loud. She's glad he figured it out with a gentle hand on her neck and blue eyes penetrating her own.

She pushes down onto his back, making him lower on top of her. She starts yanking at his shirt, wishing it would just magically disappear. He takes matters in his own hands and pulls his shirt over his head, ripping her blouse in the next second. She gasps at the forceful motion but just bites her lip while he continues to undress her, pulling her panties to the side instead of fully sliding them down her legs.

“ _Fuck_.” She hisses when he grabs her hips, keeping her from bucking up at him while he’s taking off his pants.

She doesn’t expect it when he flips her over, pulling her hips up and parting her legs with his knee. They’re both tired, confused and angry, and she can tell it’s manifesting itself in an angry fuck she’s already dying for.

He bites at her shoulder and she moans filthily at it. The sting on her skin is palpable for a few more seconds and by the time he’s pushing himself inside of her, the combined sensations have her near tears.

His thrusts begin slowly, letting her get used to him inside her. Even when he’s being rough with her, he’s careful not to actually hurt her.

“Harder.” She hisses while gripping the head of the couch, pushing her hips back at him.

“Gladly.” He drawls lowly, his hand covering hers where it’s gripping the couch. The move has him hover over her so far, his dick reaches further than it ever has.

Flashes of white dance behind her eyelids, the sounds coming out of her mouth foreign to her. She’s been fucked before, taken advantage of, but never had she been _taken_ like this. The way it aches makes the pleasure even more intense and Blake’s hand gripping hers tighter throughout it all makes her head spin.

“Blake, fuck I’m gonna— “

“Yes you are.” He mutters against her hair. “Come for me Gwen.”

He forces her hips into him harder and each time he hits home is like the most intense pleasure she’s ever felt in her life. She moans his name so many times she’s sure she’s going insane, but there’s nothing left for her to do. She feels her legs beginning to shake, her whole body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.

Her arms give out and Blake’s there to keep her up enough to chase his own climax inside her. Blake groans loudly when she counterpoints her hips to catch his dick just right, spilling inside her hotly.

“Shit.” He whispers, staying inside of her.

Her eyes look up at their joined hands, her eyes squinting at the small hint of red coating his fingers. She had squeezed his hand so tightly, it appears her nails had drawn blood. If it hurts, he’s not letting up on it because he keeps their hands exactly the way they are, his dick softening inside her.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, something in his voice telling her he’s nervous he might’ve taken it too far.

She wants to tell him this is _exactly_ what she needed from him, but she can’t get her mouth to work just yet. She just nods in response.

He curls around her some more to place a kiss to the top of her head, reaching down to pull himself out of her gently. The movement slightly upsets the place they’re joined, missing him immediately.

She stutters out a sigh when he turns her around, manoeuvring them so she’s curled up against his chest.

“I do love you.” He whispers. “And I have your back always. I’m sorry I made you feel like I hadn’t. Perhaps I should’ve asked for a slight break so I could come after you, talk to you and explain why I did what I did.”

Gwen hums, sinking into him, her eyelids heavy.

“I just got scared. I really want this.”

“I know you do.”

He holds her tightly, causing her to close her eyes. She feels herself drifting already and she’s glad that despite her insecurities from earlier exploding all over him, he’s still holding her as closely as the night before.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be a healthy balance of cuteness and angst from now on. Please let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter!


	15. I’m Trying To Keep It Cool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Long note this time, cause I have some things to share with you guys. 
> 
> 1.) I really hope people are still interested in this story, if you are, thanks for leaving comments and/or hitting me up on Twitter. Feedback like that, constructive or positive, help me so immensely. Not just to write, but to post also.
> 
> 2.) I've started writing a new story that I'm very excited to share. I will do that soon and hope to have you guys on for the ride once more.
> 
> 3.) That said, I will be taking a break from Between Songs. I need to let myself get re-inspired and I've realized that for some reason, this story has left me feeling quite insecure recently. To try and build my confidence up again, I want to focus on the other story and take some pressure off myself by not forcing myself to continue a fic that just doesn't feel right at the moment. Thank you for understanding.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter--the last one for a while.

The cracking of the bonfire is loud around him, sparks flying near the open flame. A dozen people or so are filling the yard, drinking and laughing. It’s close to your stereotypical Hollywood party, only there are a lot less people and the location is some deserted spot at the lake.

He’s been keeping his eye on Gwen from the moment she joined them. Not because he’s being creepy or possessive, but because he admires her from the moment she walks into a room. He literally can’t do anything else.

He can tell she’s finding it all a little intimidating by the way she keeps to herself mostly, nursing her drink close to her chest and swaying to the music when she thinks no one is looking. It’s a stark contrast to the confident image she makes for on a stage, or even inside a studio.

Blake turns his head momentarily when he’s being approached by one of their producers working at the retreat, letting himself engage in some mindless chatter. By the time he’s turning his gaze back to Gwen, she’s in conversation of her own.

He recognizes Jonathan immediately, the tall and slender man having quite the presence. He’s by far the most rock and roll person they have on the label, his story and background quite similar to Gwen’s actually. He wonders if they’re able to bond over that.

“How hard is it for you to stay here right now, pretending _not_ to be involved with her?” Eli’s voice shocks him suddenly, making him choke on his drink.

He wipes at his mouth, chuckling.

“Jesus, you’re trying to kill me?”

There’s a quietness as they both stare out at the scene in front of them. The ball of fire is eating its way up through the wooden pyramid at its base. Plumes of smoke are carried into the night sky, directed aimlessly by a soft chill.

“It’s just the way it has to be.” Blake answers his friend eventually, looking at him briefly. “It’s worth it.”

Eli doesn’t challenge it.

“How are negotiations going?”

Blake shakes his head. “Let’s not talk work right now.”

“Okay, then explain to me why you’re still standing here instead of saving your _girlfriend_ from Jonathon’s never-ending stories.”

Blake almost wants to hiss at his friend to keep his voice down, but he doesn’t want to bring attention to the fact he even heard his question. He’s in no position to be answering that in a place filled with people who can’t know about their involvement.

Eli shrugs. “You’re an idiot.”

Blake takes another sip of his beer, shaking his head.

“And you’re being annoying.”

He can tell Eli is rolling his eyes without even looking at him, courtesy of being friends for over ten years. In some ways, Eli knows him better than his soon to be ex-wife does. Better than _Gwen_ even.

“Let me know when you’re ready to enjoy yourself, okay?” Eli says, patting his shoulder before excusing himself, disappearing into the crowd of party-goers.

±

Gwen thought excusing herself to take a little walk around the property would get him off her case, but that proved to be a big mistake.

Truthfully, she had no real issue with Jonathan. He seemed like a nice guy, but she couldn’t stand hearing his story for the fourth time, told differently but ending the same each version. She’s been around his type many times before, the ones who love to hear themselves talk but never say too much.

“The bar closed after a few years but it’s still the place we loved to play the most. Just something about the ambiance and the smoke filling your lungs when you walked in, you know?”

She hums mindlessly, wishing she’d at least went for a refill on her drink before she decided to walk around.

“…. I think you would’ve fit in there perfectly too.” He continues, oblivious to her despair. “You have that raw quality, plus you’re too hot for your own good. They would’ve loved to have you for that reason alone.”

Gwen wonders if he can tell that compliment only annoys her, but she tries her best to not look as appalled as she is.

“I’m sorry they closed.” Is all she says, pressing her lips together in a tight line.

“Sometimes a door has to close for another one to open.” He says. “Opportunities don’t always come easy, though you probably never had that problem.”

She lowers her brow, frowning.

She stops walking. “Why would you say that?”

“A pretty girl like you….” He smirks. “You probably get _plenty_ of opportunities offered to you. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

Something about his words enrage her but she tries hard to keep those feelings from spilling over.

“That’s actually not true.” She says softly, avoiding his gaze.

She feels like shocking his system by telling her all the opportunities she never got, or had to sell her soul to get, but she doesn’t feel like spilling her soul to yet another man who ties her worth to her looks instead of her talent.

“Really? I’d think they’d offer you opportunities and then some…” Jonathan snickers, continuing to talk like he’s somehow entertaining. “No one in the industry ever made a pass at you?”

She feels the violent urge to hit him, images of being used and disregarded flooding the front of her brain.

“Hey, mind if I steal her away for a moment?”

Gwen turns her head, surprised to see Eli walking up to them, quickly inserting himself between them.

“Actually— “

“Sorry, I know I framed that as a question but it really wasn’t.” He interrupts the other producer, to Gwen’s great relief.

Jonathan doesn’t seem pleased by it, but decides not to fight him. She doesn’t know what the reason for his quick deflation is, but she can finally breathe normally again when he walks off, back to where most of the crowd was.

Eli looks at her knowingly.

“He’s not worth it.”

“What’s his problem?” Gwen whispers.

“Just one of those guys who’s been around sleaze balls so much, he decided to become one.”

“Where’s Blake?” She asks, looking around as if he must have followed his friend.

Eli chuckles. “He’s back there, trying his damn hardest to pretend like he’s not making eyes at you every chance he gets.”

It’s still weird to her to have someone here who knows about the situation between her and Blake. She should probably feel a bit worried about it, but something about Eli makes her trust him completely.

“Parties aren’t really my thing.” She admits, feeling like she should explain why she’s standing at a deserted part of the retreat, away from the bonfire and the people surrounding it.

“Aren’t you a bit too young to already despise parties?”

She laughs breathily. “Well, certain things I’ve seen so many times I can’t really associate them with anything positive anymore.”

“I can understand that.” Eli offers her sweetly, motioning with his hand for her to follow him as he starts walking. “The things you’ve seen and been through aged you, and I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

Something about the way he said that makes her believe him when he says he doesn’t mean it in a negative way.

“It’s why I actually think you and Blake make sense together.” He adds, making her heart do some violent flip inside her chest. “You can hold your own, you can handle him.”

She scoffs.

“I feel like lately I haven’t been able to hold my own all that well.”

“You’re at a writing retreat, cracking your soul wide open for days on end. This is an insanely intense moment in life, Gwen.” He says seriously. “It’s normal to feel a little destabilized.”

She rubs her fingers together nervously before looking up at him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Eli hums. “Anything.”

“Has Blake ever fallen for a girl he worked with before?”

He looks at her briefly before chuckling. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask me that.”

“You knew?”

“Something about the way you look at him sometimes, and the lyrics you write made me believe you were worried about just being another name on his long list of artists he’s courted.”

“Am I?”

Eli shakes his head. “He’s been with Aubrey for ten years and that man is as loyal as they come. He’s had plenty of opportunities over the years and never took any of them. You’re the first one who I’ve ever seen throw him off his game.”

She wasn’t prepared for the things that made her feel.

“Thank you for this.” Gwen says softly, voice soft.

She doesn’t just mean answering her question. Being here has been the most confusing, most exciting, most painful process of her life. With Blake being off taking care of business whenever he’s _not_ working with her, having Eli here is the most stable and familiar feeling she can get.

He squeezes her shoulder, and this time she doesn’t want to scream and run for the hills at someone’s touch.

“You’re welcome. Relax, you and him are good.”

“Can I hug you?” She asks timidly, flinching as she hears the words come out of her mouth.

Eli chuckles, already pulling her in when he answers her. “Come here.”

His arms don’t feel like Blake’s but it’s just as pure and there’s a new feeling spreading through her limbs, making her painfully aware of the growth that’s happening.

She feels it all around her, the message the universe has been trying to convey to her ever since she came out here.

Not everyone is out to get her.

±

He’s spent the whole evening talking to everyone but the one he _really_ wanted to talk too and he realizes only now how much energy the whole event had cost him.

Some silence is what he craved now and he made the fast walk over to the balcony at the back of the cafeteria. With catering having the night off and everyone still occupied with the party going on in the courtyard, there was absolutely no soul in sight as he leaned over the railings, drink in hand.

He suddenly feels someone slide next to him and lean against the balcony, her scent giving her away before he even looks to see who it is.

Blake smiles softly as they both stand in silence, able to hear the hum of the music and chatter from partygoers from a quarter of a mile away. He gets momentarily distracted by the gentle and peaceful look on her features, a change from what he’d seen earlier at the bonfire.

Blake nudges her shoulder gently, getting her attention before breaking the silence.

“You okay?”

Gwen smiles, nodding. “I’m really good actually.”

“You disappeared on me.”

“You didn’t pay any attention to me.” She looks back at him, cocking her head. “I went for a walk.”

“With Jonathan, I saw.”

“Did you also see how Eli had to save me from him?”

His eyes widen, his whole demeanour tensing but her hand on his arm snaps him out of it.

“That sounded wrong.” She says, smiling. “Jonathan was being annoying as hell, so Eli came to whisk me away from him. Just on time too because I think I could’ve _actually_ smacked him.”

Blake chuckles, feeling some of the protectiveness surge back down again.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to whisk you away myself.”

“It’s okay, you were distracted by other things.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head.

“Even when you think I’m not, I’m always paying attention to you. It’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else when all my brain wants to do is think about _you_.”

She shrugs, turning her body to face him completely, eyes honing on him. He loves that look on her face, the one that shows him there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

“I love you.”

His brow raises, not because it’s a new revelation, but the way she said it is. He hasn’t heard her utter those three words so clearly, so _confidently_.

“I love you and it’s a scary feeling, maybe even a little weird, but I mostly just really like it.” She shrugs. “I just felt like you needed to hear that.”

He smiles sweetly at her, fighting the urge to collide their bodies together right then and there.

“You don’t even know how much you just made my night.” He says softly.

Underneath the dark sky, she reaches out and traces a cool hand over his arm, tracing the vein on his wrist. There’s something about her touches that could bring him to his knees in an instant. He feels his eyes close for a moment as she feels him up, her hand running up his arm, back down to his hand before intertwining their fingers.

He finally opens his eyes, staring down into her darker ones. Whatever she saw in his eyes must’ve ultimately did her in, because she’s quick to close the rest of the distance between them and crash her lips on his.

With the touch of her lips, the tension inside him snapped, the feeling of having to keep it together and be professional finally releasing him. He pulls her closer to him, his tongue begging for entrance. Gwen’s arms slide across his neck, granting him access and softly moaning against his mouth. He can feel his erection growing beneath her, poking at her thigh.

She grins against his lips, bucking her hips away from him and sliding her hand down to grab onto him.

He curses lowly, sighing into their kiss before breaking it.

“I get why you had to do it tonight, but I hate when you get all professional on me.” She whispers, her hand opening the button on his pants and tugging at his zipper.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, knowing it’s confusing for her when he pulls away from her in public, trying to keep the façade up.

He hisses when her hand wraps around his stiff member, his forehead leaning against hers.

“Gwen, baby, we shouldn’t…”

“No one’s here.” She counters, her hand softly pulling him out of his boxers before stroking him slowly.

His eyes roll back into his head, one of his hands gripping onto her hip while the other one grips the balcony railing.

“You’ve been tense all night…” She whispers, pumping him while occasionally peppering kisses up his neck. “Let me help you release some of that, baby.”

He wants to groan at her words, but every sound gets stuck in the back of his throat. Her hand speeds up and he nearly loses balance, his hand gripping the railing even tighter.

“God baby, your hands, _fuck_.”

She smirks, her grip on him tightening just a little bit.

“You don’t want me to stop anymore?”

He growls, shaking his head. “You’re gonna kill me.”

She kisses him when she feels him starting to lose control and it’s honestly such a turn on how well she knows him already. The kiss is desperate and passionate, every muscle in his body vibrating as her hand is determined to get him off.

She cups one hand over the head of his cock when he comes, preventing a mess they’d have to clean up.

“Holy shit Gwen, I’m coming.” He says the words, but they drift off into a low groan. He curses and bucks, the sensation almost too much to bear.

She strokes him until he’s spent, and isn’t stopping until he’s muffling soft sounds of over stimulation into the crook of her neck. He grabs her wrist to keep her still.

There’s a silence for a moment, nothing but the two of them breathing heavily and basking in the intensity of their amazement.

He’s the first to move, tilting his head and kissing her lips softly. He still feels the tremble inside his body and no, this wasn’t sex, but this might’ve been one of the most intense sexual experience of his life. Not even necessarily because of the action itself, but the determination in which Gwen sought to get him off.

He breaks their kiss, taking off his jacket and handing it to her.

She frowns and then smirks. “Blake Shelton are you— “

“Unless you want to walk the whole way back to my place with proof of what we just did on your hands, I suggest you just do it.” He chuckles.

“Who says we’re going to your place?” She asks, smirking at him.

“Uhm, I mean you don’t have to _obviously_ — “

“I was just kidding.” She smiles before wiping her hands on his jacket, wincing a little. “How expensive was this thing?”

“ _Not_ telling you that.” He mumbles, his hand on her lower back directing her towards the entrance. “But you definitely did ruin that jacket for me. There’s no way I can ever wear it again without thinking about what we did out here.”

She chuckles. “That’s what I’m here for, ruining jackets.”

He smiles down at her, not remembering a time where he ever felt happier than right here with Gwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will see you again when I post my new story (hopefully) <3


	16. Sparks Fly High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks away from this story did what I hoped it would. Thank you for sticking with me!

She’s never been in this particular venue and she’s starting to realize why.

It’s fancy and small, and as much as she loves the sophistication pouring off the walls, she’s undeniably out of her comfort zone. She wonders if these people trickling in will even like her type of music.

Her dressing room is small and smells like smoke and leather, but it’s stuffed with music related details; a 70s poster, black and white pictures of late musicians, a framed guitar pick on the wall and a piece of paper on the door that reads her name.

She’ll only be performing three songs; the three unreleased ones she’s been working on with Blake and the rest of the team. It’s the first performance she’s done since entering the retreat, and one of the few ones where she performed her own songs.

She used to perform original songs when still part of her band, but after that she opted for mostly covers and the occasional self-written unreleased song. She usually only went there when the venue she’d perform at requested it. Anything to keep playing at these places who would replace her on the drop of a dime.

This is different. Blake managed to get her a place on the bill here, and ever since stepping foot inside this place she realized that must’ve been quite the hassle. Obviously, a label executive would have plenty of strings to pull and connections to use to get her into a place like this, but it still feels surreal and slightly terrifying.

Three knocks on the door get her out of her daze, her face lighting up as she figures who it could be.

“Come in.”

Eli pops his head in, smiling softly.

“Sorry, no Blake. He’s being held up in traffic.”

Gwen’s slightly disappointed, but she’s glad to have someone here to share her nerves with.

“That’s okay, I’m glad you’re here.” She says, and she means it.

Eli smiles and closes the door behind him.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” He says and she believes that too.

“This venue, the people….” Her voice is soft, her words trailing off, suddenly feeling bad for what she’s about to say.

“It looks more proper than it is.” Eli chuckles, walking over to the leather couch and sitting down. “You’re gonna do great.”

Gwen checks herself out in the vanity mirror, raking a hand through her hair.

“I don’t know if the pretend-everyone’s naked-trick is gonna help me out this time.” She says, shaking her head while applying another layer of lipstick.

“Really? I’ve seen plenty of women out in the crowd already who I wouldn’t mind imagining naked at all.”

Gwen looks at him. “Ew, gross.”

Eli throws his hands up. “You brought it up.”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I regret doing that.”

The producer chuckles. “You could always imagine Blake naked when he gets here. He’ll be in the crowd and you won’t even have to use your imagination…”

Gwen nearly chokes on the air around her. Even though he’s aware of their relationship, it’s still an adjustment to not have to hide what they’re doing.

Eli laughs at her startled look and claps his hands once.

“Relax, it’s only us in here.”

Gwen bites her lip, letting out a stifled chuckle.

“Sorry, it’s just so weird.”

“Talk about it.” Eli counters. “Think about what it’s like for me, knowing two of my friends are shacking up.”

Gwen’s surprised to hear him refer to her as a friend and she wasn’t prepared for how it would feel. The truth is, she’s been getting really attached to the producer sitting in her dressing room. She figured it was more one-sided and he just tolerated her because of his friendship to Blake, but to know he feels the same type of attachment to her makes her smile widely.

“Thank you for being here.” She says, walking over to the leather couch and sitting down next to him.

She lets her shoulder lean against his, sighing in relief.

“You’re gonna kill it, Gwen.” Eli offers sweetly, recognizing the tension she feels about the whole evening. “Blake wouldn’t have set this up for you if he didn’t think you were ready. Just do what you always do. Don’t hold back.”

Gwen smiles.

“I better see both of you out there in the audience.” She whispers.

“As long as you don’t picture _me_ naked.”

She slaps his shoulder playfully.

She doesn’t know how she went from playing random gigs on her own, without a single soul there to support her, to being about to grace the stage of a luxurious theatre with her music producer friend encouraging her. But she’s beyond thankful for it.

“I think just seeing the two of you out there supporting me is gonna be enough for me.” She answers with a smile.

±

Alcohol seems to go down nicely in the dim darkness, but he stays stone cold sober. He’s watching as the smoke machine indicates her entrance, her name portrayed on the drum set. His heart is beating out of his chest but not because he’s scared she won’t do a good job. 

He’s bursting at the seams with pride and she hasn’t even graced the stage yet.

“Could you look _any_ more in love?” Eli nudges him, chuckling.

“Shut up.” Blake hisses with a smile.

When she finally graces the stage, he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a few seconds. She’s wearing tight leather leggings and an oversized, sparkly Rolling Stones shirt. Her hair is down with a head band keeping it in place.

She walks up with a confidence in her step and the sight alone makes him want to holler out for her. Instead, he watches as the crowd immediately reacts to her presence and that says something—Gwen isn’t yet an accomplished artist, most people probably don’t even know who she is.

There’s just something about her that makes people automatically excited to see her.

Her voice is in amazing shape due to the many hours of singing she does on a daily basis, her confidence radiating off her in a way that’s beyond compelling. Saying he’s proud would be an understatement.

Her hips sway to the music whenever she’s not running or jumping around, and though no one knows the lyrics to her songs yet, by the end of each one, he can hear gentle humming and even some people singing along.

It’s the greatest thing to see her face light up whenever she takes notice of it too.

“She’s going to be a fucking superstar.” Eli says excitedly, clapping for her once another song ends.

Blake can do nothing but smile and nod.

“Born to be one.” Blake agrees.

His friend nods. “And you saw it early. It’s why you’re the exec.”

He knows Eli is still looking out for him ever since Aubrey left, knowing his confidence took a huge hit throughout their turbulent marriage. He appreciates his friend’s subtlety in this moment, while making it very clear he’s not here for the self-deprecation and insecurities he lets shine through every so often.

“ _This next song is about one of the most important people in my life. Someone I love very deeply. This person knows who they are.”_

The intro to Excuse Me, Mr rings through the venue, the look in Gwen’s eyes one of pure adoration and excitement.

He can barely breathe after the love declaration. He’s heard her say it before obviously, even said it back, but hearing her speak it out loud on a _stage_ , right before performing the song they wrote _together_ , is a whole other level of special.

“Dude….” Eli says breathily, nudging him.

“I did not know she was gonna do that.” Blake answers softly, unable to keep his eyes off her.

“But she did.”

He watches her finish the song, absolutely entranced.

He’s been in love before, but never this consuming. It’s never felt so two-sided, so equal. He can feel his heart bursting at the seams, impatient for the moment she’s done and he can get her alone.

By the time she’s performing her last song, Blake finally finds the strength to turn his gaze away from her and pats Eli on the back softly.

“Should we go backstage to wait for her there? I want her to see some familiar faces when she steps off stage.”

The producer agrees with that sentiment quickly, both of them disappearing from the crowd and into the backstage area.

People are already hurdling around, waiting for her to join them. Blake just keeps his gaze on her side-stage, loving the way she’s soaking up this moment. It’s all he’s ever wanted for her.

It’s also the final seal of confirmation he needed for his next move. _Not_ signing this girl would be the biggest mistake this label could ever make and he needed to make sure they all realized that.

“Oh my God!” He hears her familiar voice ringing through the room, only then realizing her show has ended. She comes walking down the small steps, one of her hands rubbing over her face. “I can’t believe this just fucking happened, they _loved_ it.”

He steps forward quickly, wanting to be the first to congratulate her.

She walks straight into his arms, not caring about how it looks. 

“Can you believe that happened?” She whispers softly into his embrace. “I just sang to a sold-out crowd, _successfully_.”

“I never had a doubt in my mind it would go this great.” He says, rubbing her back gently. “You are a damn rockstar, Gwen.”

She pulls back, looking up at him with teary eyes.

“This was one of the best nights of my life.”

He smiles widely. “You deserve this moment.”

“Gwen!” Eli comes walking up to them, wrapping her up in a hug of his own. “That was ridiculous. The crowd is still reeling out there.”

She gasps. “Oh my God, you need to stop before I might actually start crying.”

“It’s just the truth. We were there in the audience, witnessing the whole thing. Everyone was in awe of you.”

Gwen smiles at her friend’s words, looking back at Blake.

“This night was worth all the frustrating studio sessions that felt like they were never gonna amount to anything.” She says softly, unable to wipe the smile of her face.

It’s a glorious sight.

Blake shares one final look with Eli, one Gwen catches immediately. She frowns, cocking her head to the side.

“What’s going on?” She asks.

The producer nods one last time, and Blake gently taps her arm, refraining from grabbing her hand.

“Follow me.”

She appears surprised but doesn’t question him, following him back towards her dressing room. Once she steps inside, he closes the door behind her and turns to her.

“You are incredible, absolutely fucking incredible.” He starts, smiling when he catches her blushing. “It’s nothing I didn’t know before, but seeing you up there tonight just affirmed every single belief I had. If I ever doubted you were ready for this, they’re all taken away now.”

Her eyes widen, as he can see the nerves and youthful hope spreading across her features.

“Blake, what are you saying exactly?” She asks, needing him to spell it out for her.

“I want to sign you.” He says firmly, stepping closer to her until he’s able to grab her hands in his. “I want to call an official meeting tomorrow with the label so we can come to an agreement and offer you a contract.”

Her lips part slightly, the tremble in her body palpable to him.

“Please don’t joke about this, you can’t be….” She looks up at him, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. “You’re serious…. Oh my God you’re….” She doesn’t finish her sentence and instead just throws herself in his arms. “This is happening.”

He chuckles, holding her close to him.

“This is happening.” He affirms.

She sniffles against his shoulder. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything yet.” He says softly, kissing the top of her head. “Wait for us to come with the offer, you can react once you sign it.”

She nods quickly, liking the idea. 

“I promise I’ll try to be more eloquent when the time comes.”

“We’re not signing you for your ability to talk while you’re feeling emotional.” He teases, rubbing her lower back.

“You’re signing me so I can write and release songs about it.”

He hums. “Great, amazing, _mindblowing_ songs.”

“No pressure.” She chuckles.

He pulls away just slightly, looking at her lips before biting his own.

“There is no pressure. Your talent speaks for itself; you just being you is enough. It’s why you’re such an asset to this label, to this industry—it needs your art.”

“God.” She whispers, shaking her head. “You don’t even know how badly I want to kiss you right now.”

He laughs quietly, cupping her cheek.

“As much as I want that too, we probably shouldn’t do that here.”

She nods. “I know.”

“Save that thought for later though.”

A mischievous spark makes it into her eyes, but before she can react to his words, a knock on the door causes them to abruptly step away from each other.

Their stage manager sticks his head around the door, informing them about a few people from their team arriving backstage. Blake knew this whole night would be filled with people wanting to talk to Gwen, gauge her response to her first official performance with a label closely monitoring everything.

Their private moment is over, but he’s grateful to have had it. They both needed a quick moment together after the tension-filled show she just gave.

He knows it will all come to an explosive eruption once he gets her back to the retreat, later tonight.

“I’m Josh, good to finally meet you.” He watches as a younger, twenty-something guy introduces himself to her, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “I’m one of the venue managers, I write pieces on key performances that are given here.”

Gwen shakes his hand, her voice sounding a bit overwhelmed as she speaks. “That’s so crazy, it’s an honour to meet you. It’s my first time at this venue.”

“I’m sure it won’t be your last. I’ve seen many people give performances here, but not a lot were able to get the crowd going the way you did.”

Blake agrees, but keeps himself out of this conversation. He does whoever remain close to her side.

“That means a lot to me.” Gwen speaks genuinely, her smile still plastered on her face. “I didn’t know what to expect to be honest, but everyone was so open and willing to listen.”

“Are you signed yet?”

Gwen shares a look with Blake, unsure how to answer that.

“We’re working on it.” He answers for her.

Josh nods. “That’s great. Would it be okay if I wrote and published a piece on your show tonight? I promise I have only good things to say.”

“You’d be my first official review.” She muses softly, biting her lip. “Again, thank you so much for being so kind.”

The venue manager reaches his hand out to squeeze her arm briefly, seemingly not facing Gwen, but for some reason Blake can’t help the hint of jealousy spreading through his chest.

“You’re absolutely welcome, Gwen. And like I said, the venue would be honoured to host you another night.”

“Is it true this place doesn’t really host shows for artist like me?” She asks, some of her earlier confidence returning. “I mean I saw the posters on the dressing room wall and the whole ambiance of this building just doesn’t scream rock and roll to me.”

The venue manager chuckles lowly. “You’re right. It’s mostly a theatre that hosts musicals and some alternative pop shows. But we’re always open to have new artist come through here, showing what they do and bringing in a whole new audience. You certainly don’t lack the appeal to do that.”

“Oh I don’t have quite the fanbase yet…”

“But she does now, after tonight.” Blake cuts in, extending his hand to Josh. “I’m Blake Shelton, label executive for Warner.”

Josh nods. “You don’t need an introduction.” 

He shakes his hand, and something about the way the venue manager just spoke those words makes him feel uneasy. As if the reason he knows about his existence has very little to do with music and everything to do with his personal life.

“We had the venue photographer take some pictures of the show as well.” Josh continues, looking back at Gwen. “We’ll send you a copy, you can pick the ones we can use for the article.”

Gwen nods. “That would be great.”

“If you have any questions, or just feel like getting in touch with me, here’s my business information.” He holds out his card to her, smiling when she takes it from him.

Gwen studies it for a few seconds. “This says San Diego.”

“I work here, but officially reside in San Diego, it’s where I have one of my offices.”

“I like it there.” Gwen says, sliding the card into her pocket.

“You should come visit there some day, I could show you around some places, show you the office and give you a small tour of what we do.”

The guy casts a flirty smile in her direction, which she either doesn’t recognizes or choses to ignore. She looks up at him from beneath her lashes with perfect coyness, but the tension quickly ripples through Blake’s body again. It’s crazy how this night just put all his emotions and feelings on overload, barely able to keep himself from touching her, let alone watching some stranger flirt with her.

“Well, I have your card. If I’m ever in the neighbourhood, I’ll make sure to give you a call.” Gwen says in response, keeping her answer vague and impending.

The guy keeps chatting away about his job, about Gwen’s performance, and her immaculate stage presence. Blake knows he’s speaking the truth—she is all those things—yet the ulterior motive isn’t lost on him either.

He’s standing shoulder to shoulder with Gwen, still keeping himself out of the conversation for the most part, while his hand secretively slides hidden against the hollow of her back. Gwen tries to ignore it the best she can, but he knows that his hand on her spine in public is exactly the type of gesture she wasn’t expecting.

The conversation continued between Gwen and Josh, but Blake could tell her focus wasn’t on the manager’s words anymore—though she remains attentive on the surface.

He presses his fingertips slowly beneath the edge of her pants, the pressure of his chest against her shoulder. He’s careful not to draw any attention to them, making sure no one’s aware of his silent yet deliberate ministrations.

Once Josh grows tired of making unanswered subtle advances to her, the conversation dies down for good and he excuses himself to go mingle with the rest of the crowd. Blake smirks when he hears her exhale when he walks off.

Blake leans forward just an inch, so he can speak deliberately against her ear.

“You certainly got his motor running.”

Gwen relaxes only slightly into his chest, keeping her demeanour casual.

“We’re in public, you can’t— “

“I can’t what?” He says, his hand dipping even lower, over the curve of her ass. “Can’t touch you? You want me to stop?”

She grunts quietly. “I think you scared him away.”

“I think he was hoping you’d follow him.”

She bites her lip, shaking her head. “There’s nothing from him that I want, except for a review of my show.”

Blake hums. “Is there anything you want from anyone else?”

“You’re driving me crazy.” She whispers.

“Good.” He murmurs against her ear, watching goosebumps erupt across her chest and neck. “I don’t like it when they flirt with you right in front of me. It drives me fucking nuts that they can do that while I have to stay professional around you.”

She chuckles softly, but it sounds more like a broken breath.

“You call your hand on my ass and your mouth against my ear professional?”

He laughs light heartedly at the quip. “It’s more professional than what I have in mind right now, for sure.”

He knows she won’t be able to resist and he smiles when he’s proven right.  
  
“What do you have in mind right now?” She whispers.

“I can’t tell you that right here….” He answers with a shrug, his hand pressing tightly against her lower back before running up her spine again. “It wouldn’t be _professional_.”

“Blake.” She whines.

He chuckles lowly. “Easy baby, this is your night. You should enjoy it without any distractions. There’s enough time for you and me to talk about all the things I want to do to you.”

She bites her lip and abruptly turns around to face him completely.

“Fuck that, let’s go back to the retreat.”

“Are you sure? There a bunch of people who’d love to talk to you…”

“Blake, please, I need you to…” She looks around the room, scared that anyone might listen in on their conversation. “I _need_ you.” She whispers.

The passion from earlier while she was still on stage combined with the tension from right now causes a pool of desire to punch him in the gut, the sight of Gwen so desperate and willing in front of him waking a primal part of his being.

His smoky gaze runs down her frame, his patience quickly running out.

“I’ll notify our driver. Meet me at the exit in five minutes.”


	17. You’re My Favorite Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more fluffy chapter before we start entering more angsty times again..

Neither one speak of the impending separation that looms; Gwen’s days at the retreat seriously numbered now. Instead, they spent nearly every day together, enjoying each other all through the night, and sometimes even through the morning.

He knows she’s awake already as he slowly rouses from slumber, feeling her exhale against the back of his neck as her naked body slides flush up against him.

It doesn’t take him long to realize her hand is in his boxers, wrapped around his morning erection. He would probably gasp in shock if he wasn’t still out of it from his intense sleep, her hand slowly starting to work him up.

He must’ve made a noise, because Gwen pauses her ministrations for a brief second.

“Morning baby.” She coos, her free hand sliding up his back.

He’s not surprised to learn that after the intense night they had before, she’s still feeling a bit riled up, but he didn’t expect it to come to fruition first thing in the morning. Last night had consisted of long hours; grabbing her by the waist as soon as they came home after her performance and hoisting her onto his mattress. He hadn’t stopped touching her until she fell apart so many times, her voice started disappearing under the strain of it.

This morning, it seems like she took the upper hand. _Literally_.

He grunts a few inaudible words, settling on her name. He feels her mouth press against his neck as she trails damp kisses across his nape, pressing her pelvis into his ass, continuing to stroke him.

He feels slick and wet in her palm, as if her mouth had already been on him and the realization shocks him so hard he nearly comes on the spot.

“I love you so much.” She says, her timbre and low voice revealing just how aroused she is. “I couldn’t wait to have you like this again.”

He can’t speak, her erect nipples hitting his back with each gyration of her hips.

“You like waking up like this, Blake?” She whispers throatily, nipping at his earlobe before swiping the tip of his erection with her thumb.

He starts to rock into her fist, the friction far too good to resist, his breath hitching as the motion of her wrist syncs up with her hip movements.

“Christ, Gwen.”

He is so painfully hard he doesn’t know whether to fuck into her fist or pull away from it, the whole thing incredibly intense.

“Is this all because of me, baby?” She purrs in his ear, nipping the back of his neck just below his hairline. “Are you this desperate because of me?”

He doesn’t respond, still hasn’t found his voice this quickly after waking up. He just bucks his hips to grant her more access. He feels her hand slide down to his balls, waiting a few beats before moving back up to his shaft.

“Tell me.” She orders him throatily. “Tell me this is all because of me; tell me you want me to make you come.”

He can hardly deal with that husky morning voice rasping sexual demands while the sun has barely risen. The unrelenting way she’s stroking him making him see stars behind his closed eyelids.

“I’m so wet right now.” She whispers, those perfectly shaped lips of hers pressing against the shell of his ear. “I’ve been touching myself all morning while you were asleep.”

He groans at the thought, his hand smoothing backwards, knocking her naked hip until he slips it between their bodies. The angle proves to be some work, but he manages to reach her dripping center.

Her name drags out of his throat, his cock straining against the momentum she’s creating with her fist. He angles his hands so he’s sliding the tips of his fingers against her clit, her hum of approval only making him harder.

“ _Hmm_.” She whispers encouragingly. “That’s it. Just like that.”

She spreads her legs for him, propping her knee onto his hip from behind and rocking into his hand. She’s equally as desperate for relief it seems, but he realizes he still hasn’t answered her demand, and something tells him he won’t be finding release until he does.

He takes a few laboured breathes before he is twisting around in the bed, her hand slipping off him as he moves her flat onto her back. Her hair splays against the linen and her hard nipples peak under his gaze.

He can tell she’s not about to give up the newfound control so easily and he’s not shocked to realize he doesn’t want her to. It’s not very often that she shows this amount of confidence, but when she does, it’s the fastest way to turn him on.

“Say it.” Gwen whispers as her hand comes up to cup the side of his jaw, both of their eyes filled with unrelenting desire.

She runs her finger across his erection once more and he knows nothing can save him now. She can see it too, that unbridled and unfiltered desire that comes off him in violent waves.

“All because of you, Gwen.” He whispers, hips bucking when she strokes him again. He lowers his head to her shoulder, inhaling sharply. She’s been teasing him ever since he opened his eyes—he can’t take much more. “Stop teasing.”

She bites her lip. “You really think it’s smart to be making demands now?”

He looks down at her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“Stop teasing, Gwen. Please.”

Her eyes flicker at his compliance, a smile emanating as she pushes him over on his back, straddling his hips.

She sits up onto him, slapping his hands away when he tries to grasp her hips.

“I need you to stay right here.” She demands while directing his hands to the headboard behind him, positioning him at her entrance. “Can you do that?”

He nods because of the intimate way she’s stroking his chest, his straining cock throbbing between them, reminding him he is still painfully hard.

She takes his stillness as permission, slowly guiding him inside her. He starts to shift a little when she picks up the pace, his hand slightly slipping away from the wooden bar of the bed. The mischief in her eyes shows him she saw the nearly breaking of his control.

“You look good like this.”

The sound of their joining makes him lose his mind, her hands sliding up his chest as she rides him.

“ _Gwen_.”

All thoughts dissipate from his brain as she leans forward, her hands on his shoulders as she moves her hips in slow but intense circles. The new position coupled with her dominant behaviour is causing his head to spin.

She’s riding him at a much more leisurely pace, the pressure more delicate and the position _that_ much hotter because of it. She moves her hand to cup his cheek, biting her lip when he disobeys her and let’s go of the bar.

His hand cups her cheek right back, shaking his head. She arches up in protest, already trying to reclaim the power he is intent on taking back, but he won’t have it, his lips dragging down to the shell of her ear.

“Playtime is over, baby. I need this.” He blinks through the sweat in his eyes or maybe it’s tears of pleasure, at this point he’s not sure. But something flicks within him and in one definitive moment he latches onto her wrist. He squeezes with just enough pressure to haul her forward and to the side until he has her flat on her back. He slips out of her by accident and grabs her hands, pinning them down to the bed. “Spread your legs.”

She hums as if she’s weighing the pros and cons in her head, and he’s positive he might die if he doesn’t get to come soon.

“I don’t think I’m gonna do that.” She teases, pressing her thighs together.

He is weakened by the power she has over him, his cock still urgent against her belly and he’s legitimately concerned he might come against her stomach at this point.

“What do you want?” He whispers down at her, his voice cracking into several pieces. “You want me to beg. That’s it?” He drops his lips down to the shell of her ear again. “Because I’ll do that. I’ll do whatever the hell you want.”

“I’m in control today.” She quips quietly, biting her lip. “Tell me. And _then_ beg me.”

Between her time coming to an end here soon and contract negotiations coming to a conclusion tomorrow, he can understand her need for control. He figures she’s never felt confident or safe enough with anyone before to explore that in such a way.

He leans down, kissing her deeply before speaking against her lips.

“You’re in control, baby.” He kisses her again, licking at her bottom lip. “Now please, _please_ , let me fuck you.”

She smiles wickedly against his lips, her legs falling open beneath him. A flicker of victory fills her eyes and he can’t help but chuckle lowly. He moves her thighs to either side of his body, his cock brushing against her slick entrance once more. He groans, his eyes clamping closed as he drives forward.

He’s about to let her adjust when she curls her calves around his ass, urging him deeper inside with her ankles.

“Fuck.”

He sinks forward, dropping his forearm down onto the mattress so he can angle his hips to drive deep inside her. His mind blanks when he feels her inner walls starting to contract around him. He thinks she’s coming already and he gets his answer when her ankles hold him in one deep, agonising lock.

He watches her silently orgasm, her eyebrows etched together, her mouth parting but no sound leaving her mouth.

The sight shatters any control he had left, making his mind go off to the deep end. He wants everything with her. Soft and gentle. Intense and hard.

He wants to drag them off the mattress and push their collective bodies up against the wall.

He wants to bend her over on the bed and urgently drive into her from behind.

He wants her cradle her to him and slowly make her fall apart.

“ _Come_.” She whispers strained, her desire for him not yet distinguished.

He obliges, his eyes not leaving hers for a second as he thrusts harder, a string of curses falling from his lips as he feels her purposefully clench around him.

“Gwen.” He chokes out, his body buckling over while he groans.

His lips fall to the ridge of her shoulder, his aching body sinking down onto hers and he’s shocked by the blind desire that just overtook him.

Her hand moves to the back of his head, angling him so she can kiss him again.

“That was hot.”

He hums, his voice still shaky and rough.

“God damn it, woman.”

She giggles. “Just lay here with me for a few more minutes, I don’t think I can move yet.”

He stares down at her, his own breathing still jagged as he moves off her and manhandles her to lay partially on top of him, the blankets covering them both.

±

“We’re not going to the studio….” She muses, following his lead while trying to get him to drop hints. “We’re also not writing because we’re done….” He can’t contain his smile as she hurries to his side and grabs his arm. “Blake, please tell me where we’re going.”

He shakes his head.

“Just be patient, pretty girl.” He says slowly, inhaling the fresh scent of the mowed grass and Gwen’s sweet perfume. “I promise you’ll like wherever I’m taking you.”

“But is it on the premises?” She tries again, looking around. “It must be since we’re walking deeper onto the property.”

He chuckles. “It is on the premises.”

He smiles when she finally relents, tired of asking questions that get her nowhere.

It’s been a hassle trying to arrange this little venture as Gwen spent most of the day with him, plus he’d had to make sure they could get away together unseen.

He sighs in relief when the back of his truck comes into view, the tailgate pulled out and facing the lake. It’s impossible for anyone to see over the roof of the vehicle, plus the location is located at the edge of the property, away from all the houses and studios.

It’s the perfect place to have some privacy and enjoy the calm before the storm.

“Blake.” She whispers behind him, her hand grabbing his shirt. “You did not.”

He reaches backwards to find her wrist and pull her next to him. His arm encircles her waist as he leads her to the tailgate.

“I know it’s cheesy, but I didn’t know any other way to get you away from prying eyes, without locking you away in my room the whole day.”

She chuckles. “Way to make that sound creepy.”

He watches as she reaches her hand out to the blankets covering the outstretched part of his truck, biting her lip.

“Hop on it.” He encourages her with a soft smile.

“Hop on it?” She teases, looking back at him. “I mean sure, but it might be a little _too_ out in the open…”

“Shush, woman.” He retorts, laughing along with her as her comment prompts an immediate blush.

He waits until she’s seated, eyes looking out at the lake while she pulls the blanket up to cover her knees.

It’s these small things he’s never done before; he’s had his truck for over eight years and never had he sat on it with Aubrey. Never did the water that fills the lake remind him of a lover; wild, deep, calming, relentless, beautiful.

“You’re not joining me?” She asks with a pout.

He’s still standing at the side of the tailgate, his arm resting against the roof.

“I just like looking at you.”

She blushes.

“Stop it.”

“You’re gonna have to get comfortable with people looking at you, Gwen.” He muses gently. “Soon enough, you’ll have millions of people fawning over you.”

“Not in the way you are.” She says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement temporarily exposes a part of her neck on which he sucked a hickey this morning.

“No, but they’ll admire you all the same.”

She shakes her head, the thought obviously a foreign one to her.

“I don’t think anyone could ever see me the way you do.”

He finally moves from his spot, using his arms to pull himself next to her, shifting so his shoulder touches hers and he shares her same line of vision, directly onto the lake.

“How do you think I see you?” He asks.

“The way you look at me sometimes….” She shakes her head and lets out a soft scoff. “It feels like you see the stars, the sun, the whole galaxy in my eyes.”

Blake chuckles, his fingers reaching for her chin and directing her gaze to him.

“You wanna know what I see?” He asks lowly, watching her swallow. She nods without words, biting her lip. “I see the truth. I see a beautiful woman who’s been hurt in her past, but is using all of that to make art and create a better world. I see someone who loves me and I who I love in return, so very deeply. I see music, depth, beauty, basically everything I need in this world to survive. I see you, and my God, if it’s not the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her chin trembles a little, her eyes filling. He can tell she’s biting her lip to prevent from making any sounds and she quickly leans her head forward until it’s resting against his shoulder.

“You should not be allowed to say these things to me.” She murmurs against him. “You always manage to bring me to tears when you do that.”

“Because no one has been telling you what they should’ve been.”

She looks up and hooks her arms around the back of his neck.

“I never had to believe them.”

Blake leans forward to quickly peck her on the lips.

“Say what you want sunshine, but I know you needed to hear this just now.”

She plays with the hairs in his nape.

“I love you.”

He’s never had a near death experience, never saw that white light, never heard the angels sing, but when Gwen verbalizes her love for him, he’s quite sure it has to be somewhat similar to those sensations.

“I love you too.”

She smiles brightly.

“I know we literally just had sex before we decided to go outside, but is it weird if I tell you that I really want you to lay me down right now?”

His thumb caresses her cheek. “Not weird at all.”

“But you won’t?”

He squints his eyes and kisses her again, his mouth trailing soft and wet kisses down her neck.

“As much as I want to…” He sighs against her collarbone. “I don’t want to risk anyone seeing us in that kind of position.”

She pouts again.

“I know you’re right, but it sucks.”

“How are you not tired?” He chuckles, pulling himself away from her enticing skin and pulling her into his side.

“I don’t get tired of you.” She says confidently. “Not ever.”

He looks down at her but her gaze is already back on the lake in front of her. He chuckles at her admiration for Earth’s creation, so much so that she doesn’t even register him looking or softly laughing at her.

“I also think the adrenaline of tomorrow’s events are keeping me wired.” She admits.

Blake rubs her arm.

“You’re nervous.”

“It’s horrible actually.” She’s quiet for a few beats. “It’s great _obviously_ , but I just hate not knowing what they’ll come up with, what _you’ll_ come up with.”

“You know I only want what’s best for you.” He says strictly. “I’m not looking to screw you over; I would never do that.”

“I know.” She whispers. “It’s just something that I’ve been working towards for so long and now it’s finally here. I just keep thinking that something is gonna happen to mess it up.”

He shakes his head, squeezing her even tighter against him.

“You’re going to get signed.” He tells her definitely. “There’s literally no question about that. You’ll have Stuart there to go over the contract with you, and if there’s anything you don’t like or don’t understand, you’ll tell us.”

She nods.

“I don’t know what surprises me more to be honest, the fact that I’m leaving here with a record deal or a with a boyfriend.”

He laughs quietly.

“The second one is the only real surprise.”

“It’s definitely the most random one.”

He kisses the top of her head, unable to refrain from touching her, even when the touches are light and innocent.

“You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.” He whispers. “I’m so glad I grew a pair and decided to ignore everything else.”

He watches as her eyes close and her head leans into his shoulder once more. Her head stays directed to the water and she doesn’t speak, but the look on her face says more than words ever could.

±

He walked past her like he would any artist on this day, on his way to the meeting.

He couldn’t let his own personal feelings for her tip him off to his colleagues. He needed to be professional. He had learned from the previous meeting though and went through the whole thing with Gwen in bed. He told her how he wouldn’t try to fight her battles for her, but he would be present enough for her to always be comfortable.

Walking past her in the large hallway now proved to be difficult. He could see the fearfulness and excitement in her eyes. He wanted to take her hand and shake out the first emotion, leaving her with nothing but joyfulness over the prospect of what’s about to happen.

She might not know the specifics yet, but he’s pretty sure she’ll be thrilled with the outcome.

He wants her to stop being frightened and start believing more in her talent. He wants her to lead this upcoming conversation with confidence instead of fear. He had to walk past her quickly, in order for him not to get engulfed with care.

He sits down in the large black office chair; Arnold, Jim and Eli all there amongst four others.

Gwen makes her entrance quietly, as she appears nervous and curious. He can work with that.

Her hair is down and her make up is more prominent than he’s seen it yet; bright red lips, her lashes long and dark. She’s wearing red tartan pants and a black tanktop with silver jewellery. She sits down across from him, swallowing roughly while her hands appear to be on her lap.

“Just a few more minutes before we can start. We’re waiting on one more.” Blake informs her sweetly, hoping it will cause her to relax a little.

She nods at him with a smile, trying to keep her composure.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He adds. “Water, coffee?”

She shakes her head, but then sighs and changes her mind. “Actually, some water would be nice.”

“Why don’t you follow me?” Eli pipes up suddenly, standing.

Gwen appears grateful for the opportunity and so is Blake. Eli knows Blake is confined to certain behaviour as the label executive, which doesn’t allow him to take the same liberties as his friend can. He’s grateful to know Eli can take her aside for a moment and hopefully install some confidence before the meeting officially takes off.

He watches as his two favorite people in the world round the corner while he sacks back against the chair.

Eli follows Gwen into the hallway, then points to the left at the coffee machine. When they’re out of view, he puts his hand on her shoulder gently.

“Hey, take a breath, will you?”

Gwen exhales loudly.

“I’m sorry.” She stresses. “I’m trying to keep it together, but I just can’t.”

“You can.” Eli says. “This is the moment you’ve wanted all along, right? Try to enjoy it.”

He presses at the water machine, pulling a plastic cup underneath.

Gwen glances at him. “What if they don’t want to offer me a deal?”

Eli frowns. “Gwen, that’s not why we’re here.”

“I know, Blake told me you guys came to an agreement. But what if they change their mind? What if the agreement turns out to be so crappy I can’t accept?”

The producer smiles softly, handing her the water-filled cup.

“Thank you.” She mouths.

“Listen to me.” Eli demands friendly. “You gotta keep in mind this is still a label; they want money. If they don’t feel like they can profit off you, they’ll change the stakes. You just need to be clear and confident in what you want. They have a contract for you, one Blake has looked over and deemed right. They might try and chip off some things, but that’s where your demands come in. You won’t let them take anything out and you don’t sign anything until your lawyer says it’s okay.”

“Stuart was looking at me like I was crazy in there.” She says softly, biting her lip.

“He could probably sense your nervousness and didn’t know how to react.” Eli replies. “A lot of people don’t.”

“You’d think a lawyer would.”

Eli shrugs. “That’s just what they _like_ you to think.”

Gwen chuckles. “Thank you for coming out here with me. I needed someone to talk to.”

“I know.” The producer responds, squeezing her shoulder once more. “I could tell Blake was seconds away from doing this himself. I can’t have him put any more scrutiny on himself.”

Gwen nods. “Are you sure I can trust Stuart?”

She never had a lawyer, never could afford one, so when Blake told her he was taking care of that _for_ her, she almost wanted to laugh in his face.

But Stuart had been there when she first arrived here, sitting down with her to go over her stay. He had been officially assigned to her a few weeks ago, when Blake wasn’t working with her anymore.

“He’s great at what he does.” Eli nods. “You can trust him. He’s been working with Blake for a long time; he truly has the artist’s best intentions at heart.”

Eli motions with his hand to walk back into the hallway, the clock on the wall showing it’s 11:31.

Blake’s head lifts when he watches Gwen and Eli make their entrance back into the room, everyone now complete. He folds his hands in front of him on the table and nods.

“Everyone ready to get started?”


	18. Stay Low, Swim Home, Hold Tight

The air felt still, everyone was looking at her to see her reaction. Creases appeared in her forehead as she was looking over the contract, the strong and passionate version of Gwen reappearing once they provided her with the piece of paper that would change her life. It took her and Stuart a few minutes plus a half an hour break to come back with the decision to accept and sign.

It’s a good deal. Blake made sure of that. The label would take minimum cuts of the profits, left her with all the creative control, and used the 360 set-up to revenue many marketing opportunities and carve out a distinctive path to success for her.

The meeting had been finalized for hours now and Gwen had made numerous phone calls outside afterwards. She had shot him a quick text about meeting some of her friends to celebrate the good news and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wanted her to stay here for selfish reasons.

He’d get to celebrate with her later.

“Congratulations on signing the new artist.” Jim approaches him in steady strides, cocking his head. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little firecracker with that one.”

Blake chuckles. “She’s incredibly talented, we’re lucky to have her.”

Jim hums. “I knew we’d get here with her at some point. Aubrey told me right from the beginning.”

Blake’s heart stutters against his chest, something in his eyes must’ve given his sudden anguish away since Jim starts immediately apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up your wife.”

“ _Ex_.” Blake corrects him, his voice sounding like nearly a hiss.

“Ex-wife.” Jim nods. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more sensitive.”

As much as he wants to agree and make the man feel slightly guiltier, he can’t get over the implications of his words.

“What do you mean, she _told_ you?”

Jim looks at him with a soft smile. “She just said that you’re very fond of her, that she could tell you were impressed by her skills. I think Aubrey might’ve felt like there was a musical connection there you obviously could never have with her.”

Blake’s stunned into silence. Aubrey didn’t know of any wrongdoings yet at the time she confided in Jim, which makes him feel incredibly uneasy.

“I always knew Gwen was special.” Blake answers, trying to direct away from the subject of his ex.

“You were right.” Jim concedes. “Again, I’m sorry for bringing her up. It’s just hard to get used to you know? She was like family to the label, it’s hard to see her go.”

Blake scratches the back of his neck. If there is one thing Aubrey didn’t care for, it was his job. He had a hard time convincing her to join him to anything work related; parties, shows, getaways—she usually wouldn’t join.

Aubrey is a lot of things, but family to the label is _not_ one of them.

“You spent a lot of time with her here?” Blake asks, trying not to let his confusion shine through too much.

Jim waves off the question with a level of nonchalance that bothers Blake.

“Not more than whenever else she’d be nearby. Just the occasional ‘hey, how are you doing’, that type of thing.”

“ _It’s more than I’d get on most days._ ” He mumbles under his breath, unable to hide the hint of bitterness.

Jim pats his arm once encouragingly.

“She’s a good woman, Blake and she cares. Told me to congratulate you with signing Gwen despite everything that has happened.”

Blake squints his eyes.

“You have her number?”

The man in front of him falls quiet, obviously searching for a reply. Blake doesn’t give him the time to come up with a lie.

“You said she wanted to congratulate me for signing Gwen, but she’s not here. She was gone way before that became an official fact, so let me ask you again, you’ve got her number?”

Jim swallows roughly. “I do. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

Blake nods. “Safe to say you guys talk a bit more than just your occasional hi and bye, then?”

“I understand times are weird for you right now; losing your wife, the cheating scandal plastered across the media— “

“Don’t patronize me.” Blake warns. “Don’t you dare do that shit. I can handle everything that’s going on, but I won’t let you lie straight to my face.”

“The same way you lied to Aubrey?”

His jaw locks, his heart hammering. The puzzle pieces fall together painfully clear; the way he’s protecting a woman he claims he’s only spoken to a few times over the years, the way he has her number yet Bree never spoke a word about even knowing Jim beyond Blake’s stories of him—it all connects in his brain now.

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“You have a lot of nerve asking me that.”

“You want to talk about nerve?” Blake retorts lowly, biting his lip before taking a step forward. Jim takes a step back out of automatism. “ _Nerve_ is you talking to me about lying to my wife while you two have been sneaking around my back. _Nerve_ is you bringing her up at all while you’re talking to me.”

“She just needed someone to talk to while she was here, we never meant— “

“—How long?” Blake cuts him off.

He can tell the man's weighing his options; the truth spilling out before Blake's ready to prepare for the weight of them. 

Jim swallows roughly. “A few weeks before you two split.”

Blake feels a surge of nausea overtake him. A few weeks before he went public with his affair was around the same time he and Gwen slept together. Perhaps even before that.

Blake chuckles darkly.

“Since I can’t fire you over this, I’m gonna do you one better; you stay the hell out of my way and don’t _ever_ bring up Aubrey again. I don’t care what you do with her, but I don’t want her name to ever fall off your lips around me again. I don’t even want you to talk to me when it’s not about business. Are we clear on that?”

Jim nods subdued, obviously picking his battles.

Blake doesn’t wait for a response either. He’s not sure he can keep his anger and aggression to himself and the last thing he needs is another scandal staining his name.

He doesn’t look back when he’s walking away, all the way to his assigned lake house. He doesn’t even really think; he just lets his feet drag him the necessary distance in a daze. It’s not until he’s sitting on his couch, eyes staring blankly ahead that he realizes the magnitude of his feelings.

He feels his jaw twitch at the pure anger coursing through him, the whole world learning of his infidelity feeling more and more like a slap to the face. His relationship with Aubrey was far from perfect, but somehow he still managed to feel disappointed at the new revelation.

He’s ready to curse at whoever is calling him now, but Gwen’s name on his display screen changes his course of action.

“ _Blakeyyyy_.” Her voice is high-pitched in his ear, and he knows her well enough to realize she’s been drinking already. “Can I ask you for a small favour?”

He chuckles at her, trying to forget the sour mood he’s in.

“That depends, how bad is it?”

She giggles. “Nothing bad, cowboy. It’s just that Tony picked me up earlier but it turns out he can’t actually drive me back…”

Blake stays quiet for a few beats.

“You think you could come pick me up?” She asks sweetly. “I want to spent the last two nights with you.”

He swallows roughly. “You’re with your ex?”

He knows he shouldn’t get jealous, but after everything that transpired today, he is in no mood to deal with this.

“I’m with the whole band. _Former_ band.” She corrects herself. “I just had to call them after I signed with you and surprisingly enough they’re all super happy for me. We’re having a few drinks at Tony’s house and he’s too drunk to drive.”

Blake tries to ignore the uncomfortably bitter taste in his mouth.

“Sure, give me the address.”

“Really?” She shrieks. “Yay, thank you.”

He lets a small smile cover his features.

“I can’t actually get out of the car though, you understand that right? It’s not a good look for me to be seen with you outside of work. I’ll park in the street and you walk the rest of the way, deal?”

“Deal… _boss_.”

Blake grunts. “And lay off the booze.”

Gwen snorts. “You’re getting this whole boss thing messed up, Blakey.”

He rolls his eyes but keeps his commentary to himself, not wanting to ruin Gwen’s day with his own reservations. Instead, he sighs when the line gets disconnected and rummages around for his car keys.

±

He’s been on Tony’s block for a few minutes, already gazing out of the window with hopes that Gwen won’t take too long to get to his car. He’s not in the mood to be here for any longer than he has to, especially since the media is still on his ass ever since his prime-time interview.

He’s stuck watching people for a while; a blonde woman on the sidewalk mirroring his own disappointment and slight anger with her facial expressions and Blake feels strangely comforted knowing he’s not the only one having a crap day.

He looks at a pale-faced man smiling and laughing to whoever he’s talking to on the phone and it reminds him of the effect Gwen has on him most of the time; being around her makes him forget about all the shit that’s going on outside, and all he feels is the tremendous relief of finding someone who gets him.

Gwen’s slender physique rounds the corner next, her coat zipped up to her throat and a smile plastered on her face. He can tell she’s a little tipsy by the way she struggles to open his door and giggles when she lets herself in.

“Hi Blakey.”

He chuckles, fighting the urge to lean over and give her a quick peck. It’s these normal things he hates not being able to do. They both deserve better than that.

“How was it?” He asks, starting the engine.

She sits back with a smile while adjusting her seat belt, accompanied with another soft giggle.

“It was _so_ much fun.” She says, looking at him as he drives. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“You’ve been there for quite a while.” He observes, wincing at the slight tone of accusation.

Of course she can take her time celebrating some of the best news she’s ever gotten, but the fact that she did that with her ex-boyfriend makes him feel incredibly uneasy after the conversation he just had with Jim.

“We had a lot to celebrate.” She answers sheepishly and unaware. “We hadn’t seen each other in a while, so it was just good to catch up, you know?”

Blake hums. “How was it seeing Tony again?”

She sighs a little, raking a hand through her hair.

“Weird.” She offers him.

It’s not at all enough for him.

“How so?” He presses.

She shrugs.

“I don’t know. He’s been a big part of my life for such a long time and now he’s just….”

He’s squeezing the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t mean to press her when she’s obviously having a hard time expressing herself, but the way his day is going, he’s not convinced she won’t leave him for her ex by the end of the evening.

“Gwen, can you _please_ …” Now he cuts himself off, not wanting his angrier tone to scare her off. “Can you just please finish your sentence?” He asks calmer this time.

She takes a good look at him and he’s sure she can see the frustration and fear in his facial expressions.

She offers him a small smile.

“Blakey, are you mad I spent time with Tony?”

He swallows roughly.

“Not mad. It’s just _weird_.” He says, using her earlier words against her.

“He’s my ex, that’s all we are.”

“I know.”

“So why are you mad?”

He scoffs. “I’m not mad, I told you that.”

“But you’re scoffing at me and looking like you wish I wasn’t in this car with you right now, so I don’t believe you.”

Her words catch him off guard.

He slows at a stop sign and takes the opportunity to look her in the eyes. He can see the confusion in her eyes and immediately feels guilty.

He sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want you here Gwen. It’s never that.”

She breaks his gaze and stares out of the windshield.

“Then what is it? Don’t you trust me?”

“The last time you got drunk you barely wanted anything to do with me and now you’re getting drunk with your ex and I’m just wondering if that maybe brought back some feelings, some comfortability you don’t have with me yet.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“ _That’s_ the only part of that sentence you want to reply to?”

Now it’s her time to sigh.

“Take a left here. I want to show you something.” She says instead, causing his brow to raise.

“We need to take the interstate to get us back to the retreat, Gwen...”

“I know.” She insists. “Don’t take it, go left.”

He obeys and changes the course of the car, waiting for her to elaborate. When that doesn’t happen, he shakes his head.

“Where to Gwen?”

“Keep driving straight ahead and go left at the first light.”

He realizes there’s not gonna be any more conversation, or at least not until they get to Gwen’s destination.

The working-class environment shows a few closely built neighbourhoods, reminding him of the places he’d be around before his life catapulted him into fancy neighbourhoods and silver gates. Suddenly it clicks.

“That’s mine, right over there.” Gwen points at a small-looking apartment at the end of the street, the street sign bent out of shape due to an earlier storm.

Blake nods, swallowing roughly. If there’s one thing he didn’t expect to happen tonight, it’s Gwen taking him to her home.

The car comes to a stop in the assigned parking spot and Gwen’s the first one to exit the vehicle. She doesn’t start walking without him though and instead just gazes towards her front door.

Blake stands next to her, not daring to rush whatever is going on in her head.

She looks at him abruptly. “I’m not drunk and even if I were, I wouldn’t suddenly change my mind about you.”

“ _Gwen_.”

“I can tell you didn’t want to come pick me up from Tony’s place, and well, I don’t want to bring you here either but some things are just inevitable. Some things you just do for the people you love and this is one of them. I can’t keep you out of here just because I’m embarrassed. The truth is, I live her for as long as I have to and if you’re gonna be with me, I think you need to know where I come from. Your life, the retreat, those are things I don’t identify with. _This_ is my life and as much as you might doubt it, I want you to be a part of it really badly.”

He stares at her shocked, the urge to kiss her unbearable at this point. She grimaces in a way that makes him feel like she understands and instead she touches his hand briefly. He turns it into full contact when he grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers, pulling her closer to him.

“I’m glad you brought me here, Gwen.” He whispers softly, hoping she can detect the underlying apology in his voice.

She nods and then starts walking, keeping their fingers locked.

He keeps his mouth shut until she opens the front door, her demeanour immediately tensing.

“Please relax a little.” He whispers, leaning into her.

She shakes her head and sighs. “I _can’t_.”

He watches her with concerned eyes when she rips off a few bygone pages of her calendar and curses under her breath.

“I didn’t know I left it such a mess.”

His eyes scan over the entirety of the room, a small couch and coffee table the only real furniture she has, the rest are all musical decorations from vintage music magazines and colourful accessories and something that looks like a make-up kit. The living room has a sliding partition that separates the kitchen and she has a one mood-lamp hanging from the ceiling.

All by all, it’s small, but it’s undeniably _her_. Blake thinks he might feel more at home _here_ than he’s ever done in any of the homes he’s lived in after he turned twenty-five.

He realizes Gwen is looking at him with a nervous look in her eyes, her arms folded over her chest. He chuckles and walks closer to her, not stopping until he’s tugging at her arms and gets her to step towards him. His arms encircle her waist and his hands connect on her lower back.

“I don’t know why you were so nervous to show me this.” He says sweetly, finally giving up on containing himself and kissing her deeply.

She breaks the kiss eventually, some of the tension in her body lessening.

“You don’t hate it?”

He shakes his head and rubs her lower back.

“Not at all. I think it’s very you. It’s cute, homey.”

She scoffs. “Is that just rich people’s way of saying it’s _different_?”

“There’s nothing wrong with this place.” He affirms, not allowing for her insecurities about her home to take her brain hostage any longer. “I like it here. I’m glad you invited me into your home, Gwen. I hope you let me stay here more often.”

She bites her lip, her hand lifting to his face.

Her thumb brushes his jawline. “Why were you so sad earlier?”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She surprises him when she pushes out of his embrace and takes his hand and leads him to her small couch. Instead of sitting next to him, she climbs behind him and straddles his back, her hands moving to his shoulders.

She takes off his jacket, her nails digging into his shoulders, now only covered by the thin layer of his shirt.

She leans forward until her face brushes his cheek.

“You’re always telling me to be real with you, to not hide from you, so why is it okay for _you_ to do it?”

He sighs at her words, closing his eyes and leaning back into her.

“I’m trying not to ruin your day.”

She starts softly massaging his shoulders.

“You talking to me about your feelings could never ruin my day.” She applies a little bit more pressure, causing a relieved sigh to escape his lips. “Don’t hide from me, Blake.”

He’s helpless to his own emotions then, the safety Gwen provides him in this moment causing him to spill it out to her.

“Jim, the producer you met in the meeting...” He starts softly, shaking his head. “He and Aubrey are sleeping together. Probably started way before you and I did.”

Gwen’s hands immediately stop kneading into his shoulders, her breath stuttering out brokenly. He can’t see her face but he’s sure she’s shaking her head in disbelief.

“ _Blake_ ….” She whispers. “How do you— “

“—I spoke to him about signing you, he was congratulating me and then….” Blake feels anger coursing through him again at recalling the events. “I guess he misspoke. I confronted him on it and he confessed.”

“Oh my God.”

“It’s not even about Aubrey being unfaithful again; I always knew she found it hard to be with just me. I’m not even sad about that anymore, it’s why we called things off. It’s just….” He scoffs again, more bitterly this time. “I went on national television because she was blackmailing me, blackmailing _you_ , and all that time she was being unfaithful herself.”

She softly and slowly resumes her ministrations on his shoulders, kissing the top of his head.

“I don’t even know what to say.” She admits softly. “Whatever you need from me right now, Blake. Just tell me.”

He leans into her so much, his head hits her chest and he’s able to look up into her eyes. She looks at him with so much love and care he almost starts crying.

“Just this.” He whispers.

She nods. “You’ve got it, baby.”

They’re silent for a few beats when she speaks again, never stopping her movements and working the tension out of him.

“You know, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I’ve said this before, but you’re going through a lot Blake. It’s okay not to feel okay. I can handle it; you don’t have to stay strong for me all the time. You can break on me, too.”

He smiles sadly. “I know you can handle it.”

“But?”

“I guess I’m just not used to it.”

She leans down again, kissing him softly on his forehead.

His brow furrows when she lingers there for a while, brushing his forehead with her lips impossibly tenderly.

The message behind her move doesn’t go unnoticed. The world might turn on him, make him feel hardened and attacked, but she’ll be the softness he needs to navigate through that. She’ll be tender when the rest of the world isn’t.

And just like that, out of pure silence arise his first tears.

He feels her tighten her hold around his shoulders when he tries to hide himself from her. She eventually realizes the angle isn’t it for him and manoeuvres herself to his side, pulling his head on her shoulder. He doesn’t sob, but he _does_ let tears run freely over his face, not remembering the last time he let himself be vulnerable like this.

She holds on to him while he finally lets out the grief he feels about his exploding marriage, his wife’s infidelity, his own mistakes, the media having a field day with his life, until all he can feel is the strong hold of Gwen’s soft arms.

This is where he belongs, even when his heart is shattered and his eyes are red and puffy. Even when the rest of the world doesn’t understand, even when his colleagues turn out to not be on his team.

He’s been settling for a dark abyss for far too long, and Gwen’s light is the first one he’s seen in years.

He’s gonna let himself break in her light until he’s open enough to internalize hers as his own.


	19. Do You Remember How It Was?

Whoever tells you things immediately start looking up for you once you get signed, are lying to you.

It’s what she’s finding out after being settled back into her own apartment for two weeks. Blake had been trying to prepare her for this too. She spent most her days tidying up her place, hoping it would somehow give her a more accomplished feeling.

Blake hadn’t been able to swing by here since she left and the only time she’s seen him is when he dropped her off here thirteen days ago.

She’s a signed artist now. She’s backed by a huge label and her songs are officially going to be supported and promoted by a machine. She won’t be the only one fighting for her career any longer, but the whole team who she knows is there on _paper_ , is nowhere to be found in her ordinary life.

And life is still ordinary, don’t get it twisted.

She’s without a job, applying for part-time ones here and there. The truth is, she’s not motivated to do anything else but music. It’s probably why she’s getting no calls back.

She’s been writing almost every night. _Drinking_ too.

She figured she’s the least reserved and scared when she’s had a few. Her lyrics mostly depend on honesty and if she’s too nervous to go there, the song won’t live up to her own standards. Which will ultimately mean the label won’t be excited either.

She knew he was coming tonight, which prompted in her giving herself a break from writing, but she’s sure there will still be some drinking involved.

The doorbell rings once and it stirs her off the couch.

“Tony.” She says softly, letting him in.

She’s not as excited as she thought she would be at having someone drop by. She’s tired and stressed and broke.

“You look like shit.” He observes, dropping a six pack of beers on her small dinner table.

“Thank you.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes and watching as he grabs a bottle and sits down in _front_ of her couch.

It’s something they’re so used to doing from their couch hopping days; they still sit on the floor together whenever they reminisce.

She grabs a bottle herself, despite not being a beer person and settles next to him without a word. The television is on very softly, barely loud enough to register what’s being said. But the background noise helps to make her feel a little less lonely, so she keeps it on at all times.

“I hope you won’t forget these moments when you become this huge superstar.” Tony teases, swallowing a large mouthful.

“I don’t think I’ll ever sit on a couch normally.” She quips, letting his soft chuckle be enough confirmation that he understands what she’s saying.

“How long have you been home now?” Tony asks, taking another sip.

Memories of the retreat flood her brain, flashes of Blake and her spending time together immediately causing her smile to drop. She misses him.

“Two weeks.”

Tony hums.

“Feels like it’s been way shorter.”

“It’s because you’ve never come by since.” She lets him know, not accusing necessarily, but she’s tired of sweeping her loneliness under the rug. “No one did.”

He looks at her with a conflicted look.

“I figured you’d be busy.” He offers her apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps I need more friends than just my ex.” She shares with a smile, no animosity there, just the truth.

Tony chuckles. “You _do_ have more friends.”

“None who thought I was worth a visit.” She says, taking a large swig. “I’m not even mad about it. I’m just lonely here I guess.”

“You went from being around people all the time to coming back here alone. It’s normal.” He says, shrugging.

Tony doesn’t know about her involvement with Blake, but he does know she’s been around producers, writers and artist for a whole month, being strictly monitored and trained. The adjustment would be a tricky one for anyone.

“Yeah.” She sighs, biting her lip. “Enough about me. How are you?”

He smirks. “Better now.”

“What’s wrong with us?” She chuckles, staring at the label wrapped around the beer bottle. “We got out of shitty situations, have a place to call our own and we’re still not happy.”

Tony and her both have known darker times, yet there was always this cloud hovering over them that seemed intent on ruining anything good.

“We expected to be somewhere else by now.” He says simply, though his words take the air from her lungs. “It’s hard to forgive ourselves for the opportunities we didn’t take and the ones we blew.”

Gwen nods. “I took the most important one and I got it. I should be happy.”

“Something’s missing.” Tony mumbles, looking at her intensely. “What is it?”

 _Blake_.

The answer is easy, but the solution is complex.

“I fell in love.” She says softly, yet the words seem to echo through the room.

Tony’s facial expressions go from neutral to melancholy, to anticipated.

“You met someone while you were away?” He asks.

She nods, knowing she’ll have to thread carefully.

“We spent a lot of time together just making music, and I don’t know, it kind of just happened.”

“Where is he now?”

Gwen scoffs, a hurt expression lingering on her features.

“He had to stay a while longer, which I knew.” She says quickly. “I’m not angry at him for not being here, I’m just upset that it always has to be like this, you know?”

Tony looks away, jaw tensing.

“ _Yeah_.”

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“I deserved it.” He says casually, putting the bottle to his lips once more.

Tony had been her first love, her first introduction to a love so complex it nearly killed her when it ended.

“Does he make you happy, Gwen?”

She could tell the question took a lot for him to ask, and she can see the regret of that question weighing down on him already. She decides to put him out of his misery by answering quickly.

“I feel like I knew everything there was to know about the world, that it was an ugly place and people take advantage of you, but when he looks at me I feel like I know _nothing_ about the world at all. He plays guitar and has the most soothing voice and I think I’ll be in love with him my whole life, and the next too.”

Tony nods, swallowing roughly.

“You’ve been through a lot; you deserve to let him make you happy.”

“Thank you so much.” She says, and she means it. “He’s warmed up every place inside me I thought had turned cold, but then he’s gone for days on end and I feel like maybe I like him more than he likes me.”

“You said he had to stay behind. Sounds like he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

She nods. “You’re right, he doesn’t. But it doesn’t help me. I’ve met him during the most terrifying time of my life and he’s _not_ there just a little _too_ much.”

“You want things you can’t have.” Tony says softly. “You’ve always been that way.”

Her head bows, eyes closing.

“I want him to be here. I want that to be something I can ask without it feeling like I’m asking for too much.”

Tony finishes the last of his beer, then nods.

“That’s fair.”

A brief silence lingers when her ex speaks up again, nodding his head towards her television.

“Isn’t that your label exec? Blake Shelton from Warner?”

Gwen’s eyes immediately snap up to the screen, her body’s reaction to Blake’s face just a little too eager to be strictly professional, but luckily Tony doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her right now.

“Yeah, it is.” Gwen whispers.

It’s a fragment of a re-rerun from the Tracy Smith interview and she feels her mouth turn bitter and her eyes turn watery. The look in Blake’s eyes while addressing such a personal part of his life will forever stick with her.

“Do all powerful figures just take a page out of the same book?” Tony chuckles, turning Gwen’s blood cold. “Rich men who have it all, screwing up their marriage to beautiful wives and then crying crocodile tears on primetime?”

“He’s not like that.” Gwen says breathily.

“How would you know?” Tony asks. “I’m sure he put up a nice front to you, but we both know these men have skeletons in their closets we can’t even begin to imagine.”

Gwen fidgets on her spot on the floor and eventually gets up, grabbing his empty bottle and bringing it to the kitchen.

“I talked to him and he’s a great guy.” Gwen tells him before walking off, exhaling loudly when she’s far enough away.

The guilt gnaws at her like a monster devouring her from the inside. While she’s here feeling bad for herself about his absence, she sometimes forgets he’s literally going through the worst scandal of his career. People like Tony will never look at him the same, and she realizes there will always be more people like her ex than people who personally know and love him.

She’s near tears when Tony steps into the small kitchen, grabbing another bottle and eyeing her intensely.

“Why don’t you just call your boyfriend?”

Her heart hammers before she realizes he’s not talking about Blake. At least, he doesn’t _think_ he is.

“Maybe I should.” She says, biting her lip.

“Tell him to come by the house some time.” Tony tells her, causing another wave of sadness to crash into her.

She nods, though she knows it won’t be able to happen for a long time.

“I will.”

He taps her arm, looking at her sweetly.

“He’d be a damn idiot if he lets you get away.” Gwen swallows roughly at his words, letting out a shaky breath. “I know a thing or two about that.”

Tears pool in her eyes. “ _Tony_ …”

“I’m happy for you Gwen. One man’s loss is another man’s treasure.”

±

She’s in the middle of a grocery store when he calls her. Her finger hits the accept button so quickly she’d be embarrassed if it were anyone else.

“God, I missed your voice.” Blake’s low rasp exclaims into her ear, sending goosebumps down her spine.

“I missed you too.” She whispers, somehow feeling nervous about talking to him in public, even when it’s over the phone.

“Did you get my text last night?” He asks her softly, patiently.

“I did. I went to bed early, sorry.”

She feels like little white lie in this case is necessary. She remembers how he felt the last time she hung out with her ex, and she doesn’t think telling him she purposefully ignored him out of guilt would do them any favours.

“I mean it, I want to come pick you up, maybe have some dinner tomorrow night. You up for that?”

She bites her lip, grabbing a box of cereal from the shelves and into her cart.

“Blake, we can’t be doing anything public.”

“I wanna take my girlfriend out for dinner.” He says simply, deflecting.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Gwen, I’m going through the weirdest time of my life right now and people are judging me left and right and the only thing I want is to spend some time with you that feels normal.”

She blinks, trying to come up with a rebuttal, but she can’t think of anything to say to fight that statement. They want the same thing, only she’s more realistic about what that entails. But she doesn’t feel like being realistic right now, she wants to dream, she wants to hope, and she wants to feel like his girlfriend in more ways than just carrying the title.

“Okay.” She concedes.

“Yeah?” He affirms, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

She hums. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Just be ready tomorrow at seven thirty, can you do that?”

She pushes her cart forward with a smile, shaking her head at herself.

“I can.” She whispers. “This is crazy, you know that right?”

He chuckles.

“Some things are worth getting a little crazy for, Gwen. I love you.”

His words settle into her heart and liquefy her walls that posed as doubts.

“I love you too.”

±

When she opens the door to him at seven thirty sharp, he looks at her with goofy smile, running a hand through his curls.

He’s in a black button up that’s unbuttoned enough to reveal some tan skin and fine chest hair. She doesn’t waste any time with pressing her lips against his eagerly, sighing in relief when he wraps his arms around her.

She pulls him inside, pushing him against her door, watching as it closes itself.

His hands slide to her lower back and hold her there, her gaze goes up to his face as she lets her hand touch his jawline. “I missed you so much.” She whispers.

“God, I missed you too.” He says, kissing her again.

His finger plays with the hem of her dress, and suddenly his eyes change from a look of mischief to something a bit darker. She recognizes it immediately and slides a hand up his chest, hovering it over his heart.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

He winces, sighing deeply.

“I got a call from my publicist on the way here.” He says, pressing his lips against her forehead before making eye contact with her again. “They’re airing the Tracy Smith interview again tonight, which means there’ll be even more media coverage on me tonight.”

She breaks their gaze, looking at her hand on his chest.

“We can’t go out….” She whispers.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Gwen.” He voices softly, and he does look rightfully upset about it. “I know it’s what I promised you and I feel like the biggest dick right now, looking at you all dressed up and ready to go.”

She swallows roughly.

“I knew it was a long shot when you said it.”

He shakes his head, tipping her chin up with his finger.

“If you’re mad, that’s okay. If you want me to go, I will.” He speaks to her lowly, his eyes expressing genuine concern and guilt. “But if you’re not, I would love to stay here and spend time with you tonight. I’ve missed you so much.”

She tries to quell the growing concerns about their relationship, knowing this is something that will hang over them for at least years to come. The heavy feeling in her chest results in her leaning her head against his, needing his comfort now more than ever.

“You can stay.” She whispers, feeling the lump in her throat when he wraps her up in his arms even tighter. “I didn’t count on us eating here though, so I don’t think I have anything in the house.”

“That’s okay, we can order something.”

She nods, sniffling against his chest.

He holds her for a few moments longer before they migrate to the living room. She doesn’t think about it when she hands him some flyers for take-out to look through and crouches down in front of the couch.

She doesn’t realize her mistake until Blake sits down next to her on the floor without uttering a word, apparently not caring about the strange move.

Gwen smiles and leans her shoulder against him.

“Italian?”

She purses her lips and then shakes her head. “I’ve had too much of that place recently.”

“Chinese?” He looks at her pouted lips and chuckles. “Okay, what about some Mexican then?”

She nods but doesn’t look up at him, she just continues to lay her head on his shoulder. She’s missed his presence so much, she can’t even get herself to pull away from him if she tried.

He makes the call and she eventually opens the door, knowing he can’t be seen at her house. They sit and eat in a way that makes her forget about the abnormal circumstances of their relationship for a while.

She can feel his gaze on the side of her cheek, and finally calls him out on it.

“What?”

He smiles softly, his hand covering hers.

“Are you sure you’re not mad?”

She closes her eyes, relishing in the taste of her food and trying to come up with the right words.

“What good will that do?” She asks, opening her eyes again to stare down his pools of blue. “Me getting angry about it won’t change the fact we can’t be seen in public together. I might as well just accept it.”

Blake sighs. “It won’t be like this forever.”

His words make her feel painfully aware of how naïve she wants to be; no matter how many times she tells herself she won’t believe those words, part of her always does.

“It’s been really hard coming back home, and not seeing you at all just makes that so many times worse. I feel like I’m trying to get used to my normal life again, which somehow just feels like an even bigger disappointment than before.”

His eyes flash with a painful look, his hand gripping hers tightly.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get away earlier, but you gotta trust me when I say there’s nothing I want more than for us to spend as much time together as possible. I hate not having you there anymore.”

Gwen sighs. “When will you come home?”

“Just one more week. Why don’t you stay with me for a few days when I get back?”

She looks at him with a watery smile, the words escaping her lips without any preamble.

“I would really like that.”

There’s a distant fear that tells her he might not be able to make good on that promise either, but she won’t let it ruin the initial excitement she feels in her bones.

“We’ll figure this out.” He tells her, his lips pressing briefly against her temple.

Gwen takes his hand in hers, trying to distract from the conflicting feelings inside her chest. She runs her free hand through his curls, loving the way he always leans into her touch whenever she does that.

Blake spends the rest of the evening distracting her with the utmost ease. He makes her laugh, makes her blush and by the end of the night, she can’t spend another second without having him her in her bed.

The small bedroom has a Queen size bed in it, and that’s about it. There’s not much room for anything else and she’s once again hit with slight embarrassment. It’s so different from what Blake’s used to now, she can’t help the flush that creeps up her neck.

Blake kisses her roughly when he realizes what’s happening.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers against her cheek, most of her clothing already scattered around the hallway.

He takes off her bra and kisses her again.

Something about his kisses feels ethereal. His lips are light as they press against her, but his tongue is heavy and demanding, making her clutch at him tightly. He gives her mouth a soft lick, his fingers trailing the wetness of her parted lips.

His presence is the most intimate thing she’s ever known, which both scares and exhilarates her.

Thinking back of it, she doesn’t think she’s ever let someone in her room. She definitely never made love with anyone in her bed and the only person who she ever had personal relations with inside this apartment was Tony. Somehow every time they ended hooking up randomly, they never got past the couch.

“I need this so much.” She whispers, pulling him to her when she’s in nothing but her panties in front of him.

In one shift move, he pushes her onto the mattress and follows her down. His body pressing onto her bare stomach makes her buck up at him impatiently. She takes her time taking off his shirt, her mouth following the trial of newly revealed skin. He unbuttons his pants, pressing himself up against her. When he puts his lips against her neck and trails them down her chest, she lets her eyes close.

“I love you.” He mumbles against her stomach, his lips dipping into her navel only briefly before he’s dragging them down even more.

There’s a lot for them to figure out, a lot to talk about when it comes to the future of their relationship, but when his tongue delicately touches her where she’s been needing him the most, she lets all those thoughts go for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any thoughts on this chapter, please let me know!


	20. I've Been a Real Bad Girl

“Did you _just_ come home?”

Blake’s voice sounds tired and groggily and she feels bad for obviously having woken him up in the middle of the night.

She hadn’t seen him in a week and though he promised her she could stay with him after he left the retreat, that turned out to be something they both couldn’t make good on.

The media was on Blake like a plague and Gwen had done so many studio sessions and meetings in the last few days, she hardly had time to see him herself.

“Yeah, I didn’t intend to call you this late.” She says softly, hoping he can hear her silent apology hidden behind her words.

Blake groans. “I don’t like the idea of you working yourself to the bone like this.”

She smiles softly at his concern.

“I wasn’t exactly _working_ tonight, cowboy.”

It’s silent for a few seconds before Blake’s voice takes on a confused tone.

“You were out?”

She hums. “I’ve worked all week, I needed a release.”

“You have a performance tomorrow, are you sure that’s smart?”

“I’m not drunk or anything.”

“I know, it’s just….” His voice trails off and Gwen can already feel the annoyance rise within her. “Didn’t you go out a few days ago? I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“Blake, I’m _fine_. Can you please not act like my dad right now and just be supportive.”

Blake’s clear inhale of breath lets her know he’s surprised by her little outburst, but she can’t get herself to feel guilty about it.

She’s been working for so many days, going through the motions of her new life pretty much alone, so if she wants to blow off some steam by dancing in a night club, she doesn’t see anything wrong with that.

“That’s not what I meant to do.” Blake tells her softly, and she can picture in her head the way he casts his gaze down. “I just worry about you.”

Gwen swallows roughly, dismissing the thought altogether.

“Can I stay with you after tomorrow’s performance?”

“Isn’t it crazy how we’ve been dating for about two months and you still haven’t ever seen my place?”

Gwen fights the disappointed feeling in her gut.

“ _Yeah_.” She breathes. “It sucks.”

“I’d love for you to come stay with me tomorrow night.”

A small smile covers her face.

“Me too.”

“And Gwen?”

She hums.

“I just want you to be happy and healthy, you know that right?”

Gwen closes her eyes, nodding to no one in particular.

“I know. Please stop worrying about me.”

She thought she was doing a better job at hiding it, but it’s dawning on her that going out most nights of the week and texting Blake when she comes home at night, was bound to tell him what she didn’t want him to know.

She’s sad and disappointed.

Life didn’t speed up as fast as she would’ve hoped, but more importantly, she’s not going through it all with him by her side. 

And that might be the biggest disappointment of all.

She doesn’t want to come off as ungrateful or spoiled—two things she continuously rebels against. But she’s not happy and as much as she tries to deny it or brush it off, Blake seems to read her like an open book.

“You’ll tell me when you’re not happy, right?” Blake’s determined voice rasps over the line.

Gwen inhales sharply, deciding not to lie to him by saying yes.

“Stop worrying Blakey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

±

She’s perfect on stage as always. The crowd fawns over her, the new songs and content she’s providing them on the large podium has everyone in a frenzy, including herself.

He’s been watching most of the performance side stage, but ventured into the crowd at some point, knowing she likes seeing his face in the masses.

But today, something was different about her demeanour. Though it was clear she’s enjoying herself up there, her posture is slightly more careless, her voice slightly less steady. It’s something no one would probably even notice, but to Blake, every miniscule change is noticeable when it comes to this girl.

He knows he’s a bit more worried than usual, because of their last conversation. 

Gwen’s no stranger to letting her coping mechanisms lead her down the wrong path sometimes. He can hardly blame her for the sudden and unfamiliar changes of her life being overwhelming to her. He knows his absence is taking a toll on her too.

He watches as she continues to perform her heart out, connecting with the audience as if they’re her close friends. Her hand reaches out for one of them, clasping their fingers together as she serenades the enthusiastic fan. Blake watches with a smile, but his smile turns into a frown as soon as she pulls away and nearly stumbles backwards.

She recovers with a giggle, moving on so quickly, he doubts he even saw it right.

But the way she carries herself, paired with the glossy look in her eyes, seals the deal for him.

He makes his way backstage, deliberately waiting there for the show to be over, wanting to be the first person she talks to off stage.

The music winds down after twenty more minutes, backstage chatter intensifying when Gwen walks off and into the back area.

A few people congratulate her first, before her eyes land on him in the back. He can tell she’s hesitant to approach him, only further confirming his suspicions.

Her walk over to him is slow, a contrast to the energy in which she sauntered across the stage with earlier.

“You went away.” She says, giving him a soft smile before diverting her gaze elsewhere. “Got enough of the show already?”

He presses his lips together tightly, trying to read her while she’s determined to look away from him. He doesn’t know exactly what’s happening in this moment, but he doesn’t feel good about it.

“What’s going on, Gwen?”

He can hear the snappiness of his own words, wincing internally.

To his surprise, she doesn’t seem fazed by it. She even surprises him by finding and holding his gaze steadily. It hits him just how little emotion he sees in her eyes now, his question seemingly not bothering her at all.

“That was a good show.” She answers in deflection. “I’m very tired though, so if you don’t mind…”

She starts walking away from him, heading towards the dressing room when his hand curls around her arm, preventing her from going anywhere.

He tugs at her softly, not wanting to hurt her in any way, but also wanting to be strict in this moment.

“Look at me.” He demands softly, turning her around and waiting for her eyes to stare back into his.

She lets her arm go limp in his grip, not an ounce of fight or protest coming from her. He uses it in his advantage to pull her closer, not wanting to speak these next words too loudly.

“Are you drunk right now?”

He can feel himself getting frustrated as she just stares at him, her silence only angering him further.

This is a version of her he’s only seen once before; traumas of her past life and anger about her feelings pushing her to a breaking point.

“Are you trying to ruin my night?” She asks.

“Gwen, that’s not what I’m trying to do.” He exhales loudly. “I’m trying to _help_ you here. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“Blake, I’m tired.” She repeats, swallowing roughly as she lets her eyes close briefly.

He squints at her, a worrisome realization hitting him.

“Did you take something?”

Her eyes open again, as he finally gains a physical reaction from her. She pulls her arm out of his grasp and sighs.

“I’m not some addict, Blake.”

“I didn’t say— “

“—I was nervous for tonight’s performance so I took some Xanax to take the edge off. I only drank two shots before going up on stage, which they offered _to_ me in the dressing room.”

“You mixed them?” Blake hisses, grabbing her arm again. “Gwen, are you out of your mind?”

She yanks her arm away again, stepping backwards.

“Let me tell you what’s going on here; you might’ve gotten used to being my boss, but you don’t have a say in what I do and don’t do in my personal life.”

“You know how many people would love to be where you are right now?” Blake redirects, voice stern. “Do you know how lucky you are to even be in this position? I’m not just gonna stand here and watch you fuck it up.”

Her eyes glare into him, her posture tensing.

“Screw you.”

She walks past him, and this time he lets her. He rubs his temple with his two fingers, watching her round the corner.

“Everything okay there?” Eli asks, walking up to him, having seen the whole interaction play out from afar.

Blake scoffs. “She’s drunk or high, maybe both.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, but you should go talk to her.” He hears himself say, shaking his head. “If I follow her right now, I’m gonna say some things I’ll regret.”

His friend nods, patting his shoulder once.

“She’s probably just stressed, man. It’s overwhelming for every new artist at the beginning. It’s a lot to get used to all at once.”

Blake knows he’s right, but he can’t shake the awry feeling that there’s more to Gwen’s spiralling behaviour than just the pressure of this industry.

±

There’s a soft knock on her dressing room door before Eli walks in.

He didn’t wait for her permission this time, but she’s too tired to care. She’s even relieved to see it’s not Blake. She doesn’t think she can handle more of his judgements right now.

“It’s becoming a tradition.” She speaks, pouring herself another shot.

Eli frowns.

“You coming in here…” She smiles. “Talking me down in my dressing room.”

“Do you need to be talked down?” Eli replies, walking closer and pouring himself one too.

He looks at her as she raises her shot glass, clinking it softly with his.

“Cheers.” She says before taking it down in one gulp.

The producer does the same, screwing his face up in the process.

“ _Damn_.”

“It’s the good stuff.” She chuckles.

“Are you alright, Gwen?”

She looks at him briefly, sighing in annoyance.

“Did Blake tell you to give me another lecture?”

It’s Eli’s turn to chuckle, leaning against the wall behind him.

“I don’t follow his orders, Gwen.”

“He must hate that.” She murmurs, pouring herself another glass.

It’s becoming increasingly harder to grow in popularity across the board and also have a relationship with her label executive. She experiences enough pressure as it is to try and live up to people’s expectations of her. She can’t also do that in her personal relationship, but Blake represents both to her.

“He’s trying to control me.” She adds, throwing back the new shot.

“He _loves_ you. He’s just trying to make sure you don’t accidently ruin things for yourself.”

She scoffs. “Hundreds of artists go on stage intoxicated, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re young, you should be enjoying this moment.” Eli answers, keeping his voice soft.

That’s the difference between him and Blake.

Eli looks at her with a hint of confusion, as if he’s trying to figure her out. Blake is almost _too_ confident in the assumption he knows her, and she hates that he’s not wrong.

She doesn’t think she can truly disappoint Eli because he doesn’t have the same high hopes for her that Blake does. Yet the tall cowboy is the one person in the world she’s most terrified of disappointing.

“There’s too much pressure.” She whispers.

The producer smiles softly. 

“You’ve already proven yourself. There’s no reason for you to still put this much pressure on yourself.”

“It’s not just about the record deal or the performances.” She says.

“Then what is it about?” He presses.

She sighs, looking up at the ceiling before looking back at him.

“I’m not used to people showing up for me like this. I don’t know how to be a role model. I can barely handle my fans seeing this idolized version of me, but coming from _Blake_ …” She shakes her head. “It’s too much.”

“So you’re trying to disappoint him by showing him you’re not role model material?” Eli asks, trying to puzzle it together. “Gwen, that’s not going to work. He believes in you and for good reason.”

“He shouldn’t.”

“Because that’s what you’re used to.” The producer adds. “I’m your friend and that’s why I’m telling you this now—don’t try and push him away cause you’re afraid _he_ will do that to you someday. I promise, that’s not his MO. You should know this by now.”

She swallows roughly, something about his words hitting her all wrong.

She doesn’t want him to stick up for Blake, or tell him how great of a person he is. All it does is reaffirm what she already knows to be true; he’s too good for her.

“Fuck.” She whispers.

Eli’s features soften even more, his arms opening for her.

“Come here.” He chuckles sweetly.

She complies easily, hugging him while her head rest against his chest.

“I know you want to fight him on this badly, but just listen to what he’s telling you, okay? It’s not about control, he’s just trying to get you to do what’s best for you. He hasn’t steered you wrong so far, right?” The producer whispers down at her, rubbing her back soothingly.

The guilt and confusion accumulate in her chest, her throat tightening with emotion. 

She doesn’t know why she’s giving Blake such a hard time when all he’s trying to do is be there for her, and she also doesn’t know why it takes standing in another man’s arms to realize she’s been right all along.

_She really doesn’t deserve him._

She feels herself stumble a little on her feet, the few shots she threw back finally making its way through her body and destabilizing her further.

“You wanna sit down for a second?” Eli asks, already trying to direct her towards the couch.

She stops him, shaking her head.

He looks at her with a puzzled look in his eyes and his hand goes around her arm to steady her. In a move she regrets the instant she’s doing it, she’s grabbing the back of his neck and pushing up on her tip toes.

The moment happens in slow motion, slamming into her like a freight train. 

Their mouths almost meet when he pulls away.

“You don’t want to do that.” He whispers, his breath hitting her lips.

Her hand is still gripping the back of his neck, her eyes filling rapidly. She’s embarrassed and shocked, but can’t get herself to move away.

She’s ashamed to be retorting back to old coping mechanisms, not used to being taken care of without an ulterior motive lying underneath. She’s not used to stable relationships either, which is causing her to seriously jeopardize a good one now.

“You’re mad and tired, and a little bit drunk…” Eli continues, his breath on her face reminding her of how close they’re still standing.

He moves away some more, her arm dropping back to her side when the door opens.

“What’s going on?” Blake’s voice reaches her ears, but she’s too dazed to be startled by it.

He must’ve recognized the shocked expression on his friend’s face and the defeated demeanour of Gwen in response.

Eli looks at her before looking back at Blake, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nothing. She just needs to sit down for a sec.”

She glances back up at the producer, surprised to hear him cover for her. She finally dares to gaze back at Blake, the darkness in his eyes immediately telling her that some nervous facial expressions aren’t the extend of what he’s seen.

“Can I talk to her alone, please?” Blake says lowly, making it clear his question is more of a demand than anything else.

Eli bites his lip and nods. When he makes it to the door, he nudges his shoulder into Blake’s.

“Take it easy on her, okay? She’s not in her right mind right now.”

Gwen closes her eyes, the room spinning and her heart aching, yet sitting down is the last thing she wants to do.

She hears the door close and opens her eyes to find Blake leaning against it.

“ _Blake_ …” She whispers.

“Shut up and let me talk.”

Her eyes widen at the unusual cold tone, but she doesn’t fight it. She knows that she’s in the wrong here and whatever happens next, is going to be on her.

“When I signed you, that had _nothing_ to do with me liking you and everything to do with me believing in your talent. But this thing between us right here…” He motions with his hand between them. “…Has nothing to do with business, and when it comes to this relationship, I’m having a _real_ hard time believing in you.”

“Blake— “

“You want me to be real with you, Gwen? You’re not a goddamn child anymore, you can’t keep using what happened to you in the past as an excuse to shut me out.”

His words knock into her with such force, she shudders out a few empty breathes before responding.

“I made a mistake.” She whispers.

“When?” He pushes. “When you walked up that stage tonight intoxicated or when you tried making out with my best friend?”

Her eyes stare into his, the horrified look on her face on full display.

She takes a few steps forward, panic starting to settle in.

“I didn’t mean to…. I never…” She shakes her head, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. “We didn’t kiss.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” She cries, whisking her tears away. “I don’t want him.”

She tenses again when he starts walking away from her, his back turned to her, his head facing the door. She stares in silence when he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, seemingly working out his anger while no longer facing her.

“You didn’t want him, but you didn’t want me enough either. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made a pass at him.”

Gwen stares at him with tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking from adrenaline and pure guilt over the situation.

Blake turns back around. 

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I don’t know why—“ She starts to whisper her rebuttal, but he cuts her off immediately.

“Try again. This time don’t lie.”

“Blake.” She says softly, her voice filled with despair and shock. He’s never been this angry with her before and it rattles her completely.

“Eli has been my friend for over a decade. He’s gotten me through my father’s passing, even attended the funeral, did you know that?” He looks at her angrily, but doesn’t give her the time to respond. “I helped him get back on his feet when his own ex cheated on him, gave him a place to stay. This is not someone who I just call a friend for the sake of being amicable. This is someone who I’ve known longer and better than I’ve known _you_ , someone I _trust_ more than I trust you at this point.”

The words knock the wind out of her, her breath stuttering out brokenly. She hates the feeling of being so vulnerable in front of him, so unguarded and open.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, those two words the only ones she seems to remember.

He looks at her with an expression that’s hard to read and after a few seconds of unbearable silence she has to look away. She carries herself over to the high table in the back, pouring herself another shot.

Blake’s in front of her so quickly, she barely has time to register it when he snatches the glass from her, slamming it down on the surface in front of her so hard, she’s surprised the shot glass didn’t break.

She winces and then looks up at him.

“You wanna go out like that?” He asks lowly, eyes piercing into hers.

“I’m tired and I have a headache and you’re looking at me like you despise me, so _yes_ , I want to have a drink.”

“I’m looking at you like I’m about to lose you.”

She can’t even breathe when the words leave his lips, her hand gripping onto the table with a force that shocks her.

“I’m really confused.” She admits, wiping her tears and trying not to break his gaze. “I don’t want to lose you, Blake. I love you.”

“Don’t blame me for finding that hard to believe.”

She swallows roughly. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I never looked at Eli as more than a friend and I still don’t. I just…. I’m used to destroying everything good in my life before it destroys me and I saw the way you looked at me when I came off stage and I knew I just messed up with you for good.”

“You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep shutting me out when you get scared. Especially not like that.”

“I know.”

“I have feelings, I have fears too.” He continues. “What do you want me to do right now? How do you suppose I just look past this?”

She shakes her head, confused. “I don’t know. I won’t blame you if you need space from me, or if you want nothing to do with me anymore. I’m sorry, Blake.” She reaches for his hand, surprised when he doesn’t yank it away immediately. “I _do_ love you and I want to make this work and stop running.”

“What about your career? You still want to make _that_ work?”

She nods, disappointed that he didn’t respond to her personal admission and instead talks business.

“Then listen to me.” He demands softly, waiting for her gaze to lock with his once more. He doesn’t let go of her hand, which is a small win in her eyes. “I’m not telling you this as your boyfriend tonight, I’m telling this as your boss; you need to get your shit together.”

She feels like a little like a kid being lectured, but she knows he’s right. She’s worked too hard for this to let it all go down the drain like this.

“I will.”

He sighs. “I don’t want to lose you either, Gwen. But I can’t do this thing with you if you’re not 100% in. I’ve always told you that I wanted us to work, I never changed up on that. But it seems like you might have.”

She can feel herself starting to cry again, but she wills them back this time.

“I really want us too.” She says, voice breaking. “Please don’t give up on me yet.”

His gaze shows so many conflicting feelings, her own heart aches at the sight. When he lets go of her hand finally, it’s like a slap to the face.

“I’m gonna call you a car to get you home.” He says, rubbing his temple. “I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?” She asks, voice small.

He bites his lip, his mouth opening and closing like he’s not quite sure how to answer that. 

“I’m giving you time, Gwen. And I’m giving myself that, too. I need it to think and you need to sleep this off. We can talk tomorrow.”

Gwen nods. His answer isn’t perfect, but at least he isn’t definitively cutting her loose yet.

“What about Eli?” She whispers carefully, knowing that breaching that subject is a dangerous path to go down.

“What about him?” Blake says coldly.

“Please don’t be mad at him.”

She feels bad enough about ruining things between her and Blake, the last thing she wants is to be the reason his most important friendship gets ruined.

“You didn’t ruin things between me and him.” He says suddenly, and her eyes widen as she realizes she just said that out loud. “It’s gonna take a whole lot more than you making a cheap pass at him in a dressing room for that to happen.”

She knows his anger is rational, but she feels exposed and broken by being on the receiving end of it. 

“I’m really sorry.” She says again, feeling like a broken record.

Gwen feels like she’s going to be sick when instead of answering, he calls her Uber. Somehow, even though she knows she brought this onto herself, it reaffirms her idea that vulnerability around men never ends well.

She turns her back on him for the first time, covering her mouth to make sure none of the sobs come out. When she’s convinced she pushed them back down effectively, she stands up a bit straighter and lowers her hand.

She’s glad she got herself under control, cause the moment Blake hangs up the phone, he’s walking around the table and doesn’t stop until he’s in front of her. One of his hands briefly touches her arm before pulling it away again. She could cry at how badly she wishes he would’ve pulled her in close against his chest.

“I know you’re sorry.” He says finally, pushing down some of that anger from earlier. “But I don’t know what to tell you right now, Gwen. I’ve been cheated on one too many times, as you _know_. You hurt me.”

She looks up at him, ignoring her own warning signs in her head and cupping his cheeks between her hands. 

“I know that, and I wish I could take it back, I would do literally _anything_ to erase that hurt I caused. I was so wrong to push you away.”

His hand softly wraps around her wrist, keeping it there for a few seconds before lowering her hand away from his face. Her other one follows automatically.

“I think about the timid girl you were when you first stepped into my office, and look at the woman you are now, and you literally grew so much, Gwen. Don’t throw that away. Promise me you won’t do that.”

She closes her eyes, feeling the emotion rise in her throat. She almost flinches when his fingertips touch her cheek, causing her to snap her eyes open again.

“I love you, which is why I just need some time. And I need you to go downstairs and let the car take you home. Please, it’s all I ask of you—go home.”

She understands then. He’s not trying to dictate her every move, he’s not trying to get rid of her even, he’s trying to ensure she doesn’t stick around and do more of the things that will eventually be her downfall. He wants to ensure she’s safe.

Even after what she put him through tonight.

She nods. “Okay. Is the car there yet?”

“Been there for minutes already.”

Gwen gulps, her anxiety rising when she thinks about leaving him, nothing truly resolved.

“Can I text you when I get home?”

He bites his lip and nods.

“Sure you can.”

She’s quite sure she won’t get a reply back once she does, but at least he hasn’t completely shut her out, at least he won’t block her number as soon as she walks out of that door.

It’s the only silver lining to be found tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you are probably gonna be really frustrated with Gwen — and I don’t blame you. But please know there’s a method to the madness. Love you guys as always and please let me know your thoughts


	21. Ache

She wakes up in the middle of the night, praying that fifty percent of what went down tonight had been a bad dream. She gets only a moment to gloat about her amazing performance, before memories of her trying to kiss Blake’s best friend come crashing back into her.

She groans into her pillow, trying to focus on the warm covers that engulf her body, but all she can feel is the harrowing guilt that eats her from the inside.

Relationships have never been good to her and the habit of running is a hard one to break. She knows Blake is the real deal, not just professionally but personally too. He’s the type of person to settle down with, the type of person who could make you believe in a life so good it borders on naivety.

Instead of embracing all of that like any sane person would, she did everything she could to make him change his mind. She had been too much of a coward to leave herself, so she resorted to trying to get _him_ to do it.

It didn’t hit her until last night, how badly she _doesn’t_ want him to walk away from her. The thought has her squinting her eyes shut, a stray tear forcing its way down her cheek.

Her body aches, being sore from the performance she gave and hungover from the many shots she took back. It’s definitely a lifestyle that does her little favours, both physically and mentally, and she knows Blake’s right again.

She needs to take better care of herself.

She had texted him the second she got home, as she promised. He hadn’t ignored her like she thought he would, but he didn’t keep the conversation going either. She grabs her phone from the nightstand, hoping to see another text from him had come in, but she’s disappointed to find her inbox empty.

She throws her head back on the pillow, sighing.

She wonders if he can sleep at all, or if he’s too busy playing back this night like a movie in his head too. She wonders if he can ever forgive her for ruining the good thing they had going, even when it had felt shaky for a little while.

Truth is, their life was easier back in the retreat. They had nothing else to focus on but each other and the music; much of that overlapping.

Out here in the real world, it became even clearer that he was the label executive and she’s the artist. They live in two different worlds, and the only way they can spend any time together is when one of them decides to ignore theirs for a second. Her transition back into the real world has not been an easy one and she expected to have Blake there for the ride more.

She sighs loudly, wishing she had Blake’s arms around her right now to turn into. His chest to snuggle up against. His lips to get lost in.

She pushes all of it to the back corners of her mind, throwing out all thoughts of Blake, _Eli_ , and the mess she got herself into. There’s another slow breath before the night mercifully sweeps it all away again.

±

She frowns before she even has time to open her eyes, a vague sound registering in her mind. She rolls around in her bed, pushing her face into her pillow. The weird ringing sound doesn’t stop though, and so she turns around again, slamming a hand against the covers.

“What the—“ She stops herself, squinting her eyes before recognizing the sound of her doorbell ringing.

Her eyes find the clock on her nightstand. _9 am_.

Her joints are still hurting, her head pounding, as she slowly sits up in her bed. She rubs a tired and frustrated hand over her face, the world moving in slow motion.

She has half a brain to realize she’s not wearing anything but a long shirt, and yanks a robe from inside her closet. She runs her hand along the wall as she makes her way to the front door, her eyes continuing to squint, the sudden sunlight that hits her making her groan.

“ _Yeah, yeah, yeah_.” She whispers as the doorbell continues to hurry her.

With no idea who it could actually be, she opens the door just enough to peek through the crack, most of her body hidden behind the door.

Her eyes widen.

“ _Eli_.”

She’s sure she’s dreaming, or having a nightmare, determined to prolong her suffering.

But the awkward and slightly upset expression on the producer’s face is enough to tell her this is in fact real. The man she tried to kiss last night is here on her doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” She whispers, voice groggily from being yanked out of her sleep.

“Can you let me in?” He asks.

She’s rightfully hesitant, but steps aside anyway.

He doesn’t walk far, just leans his back against the wall when the door closes. She feels herself getting flustered, unable to look at him after what she did, and no longer owning the liquid courage from last night.

“You need to go see Blake.” He tells her firmly, her gaze moving up to his.

She’s sure he can see the internal panic on her face, combined with genuine surprise.

“I don’t think he wants to see me right now.” She answers softly, her eyes immediately filling.

“That doesn’t matter.” He says, holding his hand up as he can tell she’s about to argue with him. “Listen, you’re not the only one who had a real bad night last night, okay?”

Her brow lowers.

“What do you mean?”

“He got swarmed by the paparazzi right after he got you into the car. They asked him personal questions about his affair and Aubrey’s new relationship with— “

“ _Jim_.”

Eli nods. “It was crazy. They even tried to go as far as saying he signed you as a way of damage control, a way to deter the attention away from his messy personal life.”

Gwen’s heart breaks even more; she was supposed to go home with him that night. They would’ve taken the back entrance had she not gotten so shitfaced he had to call her a car. She was supposed to spend the night with him, _hold_ him, make sure he knew how much she’d missed him.

Instead, he went home alone and got swarmed by a bunch of greedy vultures.

She sighs. “Eli, I want to go see him, but he doesn’t— “

“You agree you fucked up, right?” He interrupts, his gaze on her steady.

Guilt creeps up on her again.

“Yeah.” She whispers. “I know I did.”

“Then consider this your moment of redemption.” He says. “Gwen, he needs you. As much as he might tell you he doesn’t right now, he needs to know he can still count on you.”

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Not today, but I went over to his house last night to make sure….”

“Everything was alright between you two.” Gwen breathes.

Eli nods. “He was in a bad place mentally and I know him. Blake is not the type to reach out and tell you he needs help, but I could see it in his eyes. I made myself a promise to come pick you up this morning, as I think it’s what’s best for him.”

“You don’t have anything to make up for.” She says softly, shaking her head. “Eli, I’m so sorry, I never should’ve— “

“Water under the bridge.” He cuts her off, his features finally softening a bit. “I know you don’t like me in that way, Gwen. I know you were struggling and you made a mistake….”

“A bad one.” She whispers.

He nods. “Yeah.”

Gwen rubs the back of her neck, her free hand holding her robe together. “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”

Eli smiles at her sadly.

“That man is madly in love with you. He might be angry, disappointed, but I know there’s nothing he wants more than to be with you. It’s why I need you to go get dressed and come with me.”

“What if he sends me away?” She whispers.

“Maybe that’s just the risk you need to take.” He says, swallowing. “Don’t you think you at least owe him that much?”

Gwen wipes another stray tear from her face, sniffing.

“Wait here?” She asks.

He nods, leaning his head against the wall. “Do what you gotta do.”

Gwen races back into her room, taking a few seconds to organize her thoughts. She doesn’t know exactly what mindset Blake will be in when she sees him later, but she realizes it’s bad enough for Eli out of all people to come to _her_ , asking for help.

She rummages through her closet, settling on simple jeans with a spiritual gangster hoodie. She takes care of herself in the bathroom in record time, splashing some water in her face before combing her hair up into a messy bun.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later before she’s back in the hallway again, Eli still at the same place she left him at.

“All set?” He asks.

She nods, trying to calm the raging nerves inside her chest.

“Yeah.”

“Great.” He says, waiting for her to grab her shoes and jacket. “My car’s parked out front.”

±

He opens the door in the same worn out jeans he always wears, but a new shirt that makes his eyes pop and reveals the tanned and muscular form of his lower arms. He looks good if she disregards the tired look on his face and the dishevelled and sad one in his eyes. He looks good if she ignores the way he glares at her, his hand fidgeting at his side.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” He rasps, despite walking back into the hallway and leaving the door open for them. “Neither one of you.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Eli says, taking the first step in following him into the large house. “But I know you, Blake. Sitting here all alone, watching television really isn’t gonna do you any good either.”

Blake huffs, falling back onto the couch, eyes directed back to the screen.

Gwen follows soon after, not daring to take a step away from Eli’s side. They’re both standing in the doorway, the passage that separates the fancy yet old school type living room from the hall. She’s momentarily awestruck by what she’s seeing, the house they had back in the retreat not doing this one justice. When she finds it within herself to tear her eyes away from the spacious room and locks onto Blake’s defeated frame on the couch, he stares back at her blankly.

“They’re discussing my affair again. Apparently, me not wanting to answer any questions about Aubrey after your show, _really_ painted me out to be the bad guy.” He snarls, chuckling bitterly. “Only guilty people have something to hide, right?”

Eli is quick to step in front of him, snatching the remote control from his lap and turning off the tv.

Blake throws his hands up. “What the hell man?”

“We’re here because you and Gwen need to talk.” He says, directly. “There’s enough time for you to watch your life play out on screen and feel bad for yourself, but right now you have an opportunity to save something that’s important to you.”

He leans back into the couch, rubbing a hand over his face and clearing his throat.

“I should kick you out.” Blake murmurs.

“Don’t worry, no need. I’m leaving anyway.” Eli responds.

“No, not you.” Blake shakes his head, locking his gaze on Gwen again. “ _You_.”

She feels the room suddenly turn cold, her heart hammering against her chest. She knew this most likely would turn out to be a bad idea, but she also knows she owes Blake the opportunity to at least tell her how he feels. She watches the anguished expression in his eyes as his gaze remains fixated on her.

Even though she’s struggling to maintain eye contact, she doesn’t look away until Eli is walking closer, a soft hand on her shoulder causing Blake to flinch.

“I’m leaving.” He announces to her softly, giving her one final piece of encouragement. “Go talk to him.”

The nerves in her body intensify once she realizes it’s just them now; the front door slamming shut while the sound of his car driving off the property is loud to her ears.

For a long while, neither one of them says a word. Blake’s hands are laying heavily against his lap while she continues to stand a few feet away, the tension in his jaw palpable even from the distance.

“Are you gonna say anything or are you just gonna stand there?”

Her breath hitches when she realizes she’s being talked to.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve…. “ She swallows roughly, her thumb pressing over her knuckle. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Does it matter?”

She slowly begins to approach him, her feet heavy.

“Can I sit down here?” She asks, pointing towards the empty spot on the couch.

He doesn’t verbally answer her, just shrugs and she takes the liberty to sit down, maintaining enough distance between them. Her breathes are shaky and light, but she knows this is the moment she’s gotta see through; she needs to make this right somehow.

“Your house is impressive.” She smiles. “I hate that the first time I’m here has got to be under these circumstances, Blake.”

He keeps his gaze in front of him, unresponsive to her words.

She closes her eyes and sighs. “I messed up so bad. I know I did. I’m so sorry.”

Her voice has dropped to the soothing, soft tone she knew would wash over him at times, calming him, though she has no high hopes of it having the same effect this time. He had trusted her with everything and she had taken it all. He allowed her to get access to aspects of himself that he probably wasn’t even ready to give, considering the situation he was still in back then, and she had taken them and ran with it. She ran so hard, and so fast, he now felt the need to build all his walls back up to recover. Walls that he never even had up for her in the first place.

“You caught me making a mistake and the worst part is you couldn’t even get mad the way you wanted to. Instead you had to take care of me, _again_.”

He clenches his jaw but still won’t look at her.

Her voice comes out desperate and shrill. “Can you _please_ look at me?”

He exhales bitterly. “Then what?”

She frowns. “What do you— “

He looks at her suddenly, cutting off her words with a simple glare.

“I can look at you all you want.” He says, locking her gaze. “But then what? All I see is the girl who threw herself at my best friend the moment things got hard. You want me to look at you? _Fine_. But I don’t like what I see.”

He reaches for the remote control again, but she snatches it away from him quickly, irritation creeping into her.

“Why are you doing that to yourself?” She whispers, grabbing his arm. “Why are you paying attention to what they’re saying about you in the press?”

He looks up at her face, as she’s sure he can sense her shallow breathing and glimmers of emotions she can’t verbalize now. She immediately drops her gaze, severing their eye contact as she focuses on his chest instead.

“Cause that’s who I am.” He says, resignedly. “Reminding myself of that makes – _this_ —just a little easier. It makes it a bit easier to understand why you did what you did.”

“No.” She whispers, eyes blurry with tears. “That’s not the reason, _you_ weren’t the reason.”

“I wasn’t enough for you.” He rasps.

“You’re always enough for me.”

He chuckles, the sound piercing her heart like a dagger.

“I got scared because I’m _me_ , Blake.” She says softly, voice breaking. “I got scared because that’s what I do. I ruin good things before they can ruin me. These weeks away from you have been so hard and I thought I could do it, but I miss you when you’re not around and I never used to be this… _needy_ before. I never used to get this attached. But now I am and it terrifies me.”

“You don’t think I’m scared?” He whispers, his eyes consistently staring down her hazel brown ones. “You think it was easy for me to admit that I started having feelings for my _artist_ with my goddamn wife right there?”

“No.” She murmurs. “Blake, I…”

“You think it’s easy for me to hide this relationship as if it’s a dirty little secret, when in reality it’s the thing that saved my fucking life?”

Her heart stops for a second, her lips parting.

“ _Blake_.”

She shifts uncomfortably in her place on the couch when she watches him get up, turning his back on her as he approaches the long window on his right.

“I’m not this untouchable guy, Gwen.” He rasps, clearing his throat before turning around to face her again. “I’m not someone you can just use whenever you feel like it and then cut loose when you’ve had enough. I’m not that guy, don’t _make_ me that guy.”

“That’s not how…. I would never use you like that.” She says softly, voice breaking.

“I told you my wife cheated on me before and you try to make out with my best friend. Do you know how that makes me feel? Did you stop to think about that at all?” He hisses at her.

“Blake, I’m so— “

“Did you think about how pathetic it would make me feel to realize I was losing you in the same way I’ve lost everyone else?”

“ _Blake_ …”

“How incredibly stupid and naïve it would make me feel.”

“Blake, please, hold on— “

“I play that fucking moment over and over again in my head.” He says, grabbing the back of his neck as he tries to work out the anger and sadness that flows through him. “God, I can’t even make sense of it, I thought we were good. Why are we never good? Why were you so scared of losing me, didn’t I make it obvious enough how much I wanted you?”

He was making it a point to avoid her gaze now and the awareness that he was doing so out of shame, is damn near killing her. He had used the words _pathetic, naïve, not enough_. She had made him feel this way. She had broken his trust and made him feel like every other lover in his life. She had hurt him and yet instead of hurling the blame where it belongs, he has internalized it and blamed himself.

She takes a risk by getting up and closing the distance between them, the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes shining confrontationally as her hand lightly grasps his chin to coax him to meet her gaze.

“Please look at me, Blake.”

She waits for him, needing the connection, and when he finally does look at her, the vulnerability in his expression causes her own eyes to well up.

“We need to clear some things up and we need to do it now.” She says, her voice stronger than she feels.

“Gwen.”

She shakes her head, cutting him off. “I’m going to say this and you’re going to listen, or I’ll just repeat it until you do. You did nothing wrong, you gave me everything. Not for one second did I feel like you weren’t enough for me.”

He swallows roughly. “Then why?”

“Because I don’t feel like I deserve you.” Tears spill over her cheeks. “It’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to use it as one, but it’s the truth. I’m constantly scratching my head about why you’d pick me, out of all the girls who’d love a chance with you, _I’m_ the one you choose to spend your time with. I got scared and that combined with all the other changes in my life just felt like it was too much. I feel like I’m suddenly lucking out after years of feeling the opposite and it just doesn’t feel right. It feels like I’m waiting for the shoe to drop every day, and I just figured that the universe would start by taking away the most important thing in my life. So I tried to sabotage it myself, before that could actually happen.”

She can see the tears threatening to fall off his lids, her hand still cupping his chin gently.

“How do I know you won’t get scared like that again?”

“You don’t.” She admits softly, honestly. “But I have never felt a pain like this before, and I know for a fact that losing you because of me is the worst possible outcome. Yes, I was scared and that felt horrible, but this feeling I have right now…. that’s _so_ much worse.”

He closes his eyes, hiding himself from her in the only way he’s able to.

“I don’t know how to make you stay.”

Her heart drops again. “You already do. I don’t want to go anywhere, Blake. Please, I’ll prove it, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Why did you come here with Eli?” He asks, his gaze piercing.

Her stomach drops again.

“He stopped by this morning.” She says, swallowing roughly. “I get that it probably doesn’t look good after what I’ve done, but…he said you were really struggling and I needed to get my butt over here.”

Blake bites his lip. “I don’t need him to take care of me.”

“I know. I was going to give you some space, but I guess I just needed someone to tell me how selfish that was. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I was just afraid that you’d reject me if I showed up here.”

He nods. “I still don’t know what to do, Gwen. My life is being ripped apart by the media and my girlfriend is so afraid I’ll leave, she made out with my best friend.”

“We didn’t kiss.” She reiterates.

“Because he _stopped_ you.”

Gwen’s gaze lowers to the floor, embarrassment and guilt all threatening to overwhelm her.

“You called me your girlfriend just now.” She whispers, afraid to look him in the eye. “Is that still what I am?”

His lids lower, his body turning away from her as her hand slowly loses its grip on his chin. Her heart stutters at Blake’s obvious retreating, her worst fears bubbling up to the surface.

“Blake.”

He sighs, his whole body shaking with the force of his exhale.

_“I don’t know.”_

A part of her wants to yell, throw a tantrum, beg him to see things from her perspective. A much stronger part of her wants to throw her arms tightly around him, apologize repeatedly while he holds her as she cries, but she knows both are incredibly selfish.

She swallows roughly.

“Okay.” She sniffs. “What can I do? Please tell me what you need from me right now. I promise I’ll do whatever you need.”

She almost falls to the ground when he looks at her again, seeing the answer so clearly in his eyes.

“ _Space_.” He breathes out, his left hand gripping the back of his neck. “I need some space.”

She feels the colour drain from her face, her legs wobbly.

“Okay.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you…” He says slowly, something in his eyes almost resembling compassion.

She takes a deep breath through pursed lips.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

He nods. “Do you….do you need me to call you a car?”

It dawns on her he wants her out immediately and she stammers her way through the beginning of her sentence.

“It’s…no, I’ll call one.” She whispers, holding his gaze without blinking. “Just please, don’t blame yourself for this. This was on me and only me. You did nothing wrong. And I’ll be here when you want to talk again. _Please_ — “

“I know.” He says, cutting her off, sparing her the embarrassment of coming off too desperate. “I’ll call you.”

She wants to plead her case one more time, but instead she swallows her words and whisks away the tears that stain her cheeks. Blake lowers his head at the sight and she realizes she needs to go now, before her tears turn into full-blown sobs.

The whole way out, she’s silently hoping his voice will call her back. The small hope that festered inside her chest, telling her he’d change his mind and forgive her, evaporates when she closes the front door behind her and there’s not a single sound to keep her from walking away.

Her hand covers her mouth as she silently cries into it, her brain unable to process the last twenty-four hours of her life. By the time there’s a car there to pick her up, Blake’s already shut the curtains, shielding himself from the sight of her leaving.

Gwen on the other hand, is _not_ that lucky. Each passing second takes her further away from his house, until it's nothing but a memory in the rear-view mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have faith guys..


	22. A Little Of Your Time

The rush works through her body fast. The sound of people singing along to her words is something that’s encompassing. The chanting of the crowd steadily increases and she realizes perhaps for the first time ever that this part of her life isn’t fleeting.

_These people are here, they love her, they think she’s good at what she does._

The guitar leads her into the next verse, the crowd’s reaction one she could only have dreamed about a few weeks ago.

The song had taken on several meanings since writing it. When she and Blake first met and started working together, the song was filled with genuine frustration and fear.

On stage, it was the song that fuelled her with the most energy, just because the fans took such a passionate liking to it. The song is imbedded with raw passion and longing for someone who feels unobtainable most days, but oh so familiar and comfortable at the same time.

Now, with her relationship to the very person on the rocks, the guitar whines beneath her sorrow-filled voice, throat hoarse with emotion.

She pushes back her tears for the second time tonight, the stage propelling her above a crowd of admirers, her eyes stinging when she forces out the lyrics that started everything.

_I'm like a beggar with no luck  
I'm holding signs up  
On your street corner stops  
Like most you try not to see me  
You stare straight ahead  
Ignore the responsibility  
  
Excuse me Mr.  
I've been waiting in line  
And I'd like to buy some of your time_

±

“You coming with us?”

She inhales deeply, fighting the urge to go out for another drunken night that ends in nothing but a headache and regrets, but she's not interested in going backwards. Not when the past holds so many hurtful and traumatising memories. She'd rather start living in the presence while thinking of her future. 

“I’m just gonna go home.” She says softly, her base player nudging her shoulder in a move she thinks was meant to be comforting, yet feels like the opposite. “I’m tired. We played one hell of a show though.”

She hopes her attempt at lightening the mood will help, since playing shows and being on stage is everyone’s happy place. If there’s one thing she _doesn’t_ want to do, it’s ruin it for everyone else just because she can’t get her mind to shut up.

Ryan smiles at her, nodding.

“It was awesome, you killed it.” He adds, waiting another beat before verbalizing the most important part of his sentence. “He’ll call, you know?”

She touches his arm softly, not having the heart to tell him she doesn’t believe him. Truth is, she expected Blake to call much earlier. The week long silence he had left her with is feeling more like a slap to the face than she’s willing to admit.

“Yeah.”

The crowd seems to still be gathering in the venue, not yet departing and the sudden wave of sound reminds her of their surroundings.

The music-filled aura of the place makes her feel a little bit more at ease, even when her heart is so at odds.

“Don’t hesitate to text me if you change your mind and want me to come pick you up.” Her friend reminds her with one last squeeze of her arm.

“I don’t think I can stand another drink.” She admits with a shudder.

“I’ll admit, you’ve been going at it hard for someone so tiny.” Ryan chuckles, a hint of worry lacing his tone, yet not enough to retract his invitation.

“Have fun tonight.” She smiles sadly.

“That won’t be a problem.” He grins. “Thanks Gwennie. Remember, call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

She nods and continues saying her goodbyes to the rest of the band, before letting the car drive her back to her apartment.

She makes the bathroom her first stop, washing away every trace of make-up and pulling her hair up in a messy bun. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, shocked by the bags underneath her eyes. She hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, or any at all really. Most of her nights are spent tossing and turning, wondering how she got here and how everything managed to change from bright blue to dark grey so damn fast.

She lets her tired and sore body crash onto the couch, her head nestling into the cushion out of habit.

Her hand reaches for her phone, swiping her finger up the screen and unlocking it just long enough to read a few text messages that had come in.

_Show was amazing. Reviews will be coming in shortly. Expect nothing but greatness._

Usually she’d get incredibly energized after receiving a text like that from her manager, but she’s almost too tired to crack a smile at it now.

_Bummer you’re not here. Club is on FIRE._

_You coming to meet us here or what?_

_You’re still in LA, right?_

Gwen closes her eyes, throwing her phone next to her somewhere on the couch, index and middle finger rubbing at her temple. The numerous texts from her bandmates only serve to anger her for some reason. She should be having fun, but there’s nothing else her brain can think about besides _him_.

There’s only one person she really wants to hear from right now, and it’s the one person who hasn’t called or texted her in seven days.

A small part of her dared to dream that she would walk off stage to a text from him, like she would every single time he couldn’t make it to a performance of hers. He never let her walk away from a show without letting her know how much he believed in her. How proud he was of her.

There was nothing like that this time.

Radio fucking silence.

She groans, her gut twisting itself into knots with worry over the state of her relationship and unforgiving feeling of failure that works its way through her.

The doorbell ringing causes her to gasp, the silence intruded on so rudely. The sound is harsh and jarring in the silence of her living room.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been laying on the couch for, but she knows her limbs feel even heavier when she tries getting up. The doorbell rings again and she grumbles something beneath her breath.

She tugs at the oversized band shirt she’s wearing, trying to get it to cover her bare legs a little bit more.

“In a hurry much?” She scolds, as her visitor rings again.

She sighs deeply before opening the door reluctantly, her breath getting stuck in the back of her throat at watching him stand on her doorstep.

“ _Blake_?”

Her voice is barely there, the combination of hoarseness from a full night of singing and an overload of emotions proving to be too much.

“Hey.”

Just hearing the sound of his voice causes the floodgates to open as her heart hammers against her chest, a few tears gliding down her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

The almost tentative words coupled with his concerned tone throws her for a loop, but she nods quickly and steps aside enough to let him in.

She gets stuck on watching him stand awkwardly in the small hallway, her hand still on the doorknob. She remembers the last time he was here and how they were supposed to go out but couldn’t, spending the night eating and laughing on her living room floor.

A million tiny needles seem to stab her heart at the memory.

“Gwen— “

“You’re really here— “

They start talking at the same time, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to keep from word-vomiting all over the place.

He looks at her softly, nodding.

“You had a show tonight.” He says. “I’ll never _not_ be there for that.”

Her eyes widen as she takes in his words, her face contorting as she quickly loses control over her emotions. She risks being rejected by fast-walking her way into his arms, her own reaching around his midsection as her face presses into his chest.

Her first few sobs are silent and subdued, but the moment she feels his arms slide around her in response, they become more audible, rocking through her until she’s a trembling mess against him.

Blake presses a silent kiss onto the top of her head, anchoring her to earth as he makes sure to keep them both upright. She whimpers against him when he speaks some comforting and shushing sounds against her hair, unable to resist the comfort and safety he provides her in this moment.

“Gwen…” Blake whispers as he tenderly combs his fingers through the few strands that escaped from her bun. “You know we can’t keep doing things like we’ve been doing them, right?”

She doesn’t know exactly what he’s insinuating but she knows there need to be made some important changes in her life, so she nods regardless.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, looking up at him from where she’s pressed against him still, her hands having a vice-like grip on the back of his shirt. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

Despite the haze of pain still clouding his irises, she can tell he means it when he nods and whispers. “I know, baby.”

She shudders out a breath. “I didn’t think you’d come by here.”

He sighs softly.

“I should’ve called earlier. I’m sorry about that.”

She swallows roughly. “You needed time.”

He nods.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what got us here…” He starts softly, his hand rubbing her lower back. “I’ve been in this industry for such a long time, some things I don’t even think about twice anymore, but you…it’s different for you. I know you feel like I haven’t been there for you enough, like you had to do it all by yourself and you know what? You are right.”

“Blake— “

“Some things just aren’t possible, but I should’ve tried harder. _Could’ve_ tried harder. I think I got scared myself, thinking that once we got back to our normal lives, you’d realize I wouldn’t fit in it.”

She shakes her head. “How could you possibly think that?”

“How could you possibly think I would ever leave you?” He shoots back, cocking his head. “I love you so much, Gwen. I was so worried about your career and my own fears, I forgot to show you the thing that literally comes the most natural to me.”

Gwen frowns.

“Which is— “

“My love for you.”

She slides one of her hands to the back of his head, not pushing him closer though it’s the only thing she really wants to do.

“Please don’t leave me.” She whispers, shaking her head in a slight panic. “I know I really messed up and I probably don’t deserve a second chance, but I can’t even tell you how much you’re all I want. I made a stupid mistake and I’ll spent every day of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes, I promise I – “

“Gwen.” He cuts her off effectively, his touch on her lower back causing her to sink into him involuntarily. “We both made mistakes. That’s what I’m trying to tell you…this wasn’t just your mistake. We _both_ need to do better.”

Her arms go around his neck, anchoring herself to him even more, embracing the only safe haven she’s ever known.

“What do we do now?” She whispers.

“We stop hiding.”

Her eyes widen, her hold on him tightening.

“Do you mean…?”

“We can’t keep living our life on the low.” He says. “That’s not what I want either. I love you and I’m proud to be with you, I hate how you’ve never felt that, ever.”

“I’ve never felt that more than when I’m with you.”

Blake chuckles sadly. “That’s exactly the problem, baby. This relationship has not been what you deserve, but you’ve been used to so much worse you can’t even properly see it.”

She looks up at him, her heart hurting.

“Blake, you’ve been so good to me.”

His hand slides away from her back to grab her fingers in his palm, smoothing his long digits over her soft knuckles.

“Will you let me be better?”

She’s unable to stop the tears from flowing freely again, her free arm still clinging to his neck.

“What about _me_?” She whispers slowly, her gaze becoming a bit hazy. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to take all the blame.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just taking responsibility for my part in this.”

“I need to be better too. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Just don’t try to kiss any of my friends again, okay?” He jokes, but the hurt and embarrassment is still too fresh for Gwen to be able to laugh at it.

“That’s not funny.” She quips. “I will literally never forgive myself.”

The feeling of his fingers gently brushing her jaw makes her close her eyes, the intimacy once again taking her breath away.

“Have you spoken to him at all?” She asks softly, leaning into the hand that’s selflessly caressing her cheek. “Eli?”

Blake nods.

“He’s worried about you, we both were.”

Gwen’s throat tightens. “I really missed you.”

“I know you’re afraid of my trust in you because you don’t trust yourself, but we’re gonna put an end to that now, okay?” He whispers unexpectedly, the words crashing into her so hard she covers her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud again. “I missed you too and I don’t want to spend this much time apart again, at least not for this reason. We’ll make this work.”

Gwen nods.

“And I wanna start by finally taking you up on my offer.” He continues, smiling when she looks up at him surprised. “Can I take you home with me? I really want you to spend some time at my place.”

She perks up at that.

“Are you sure?”

It’s a question and a plea all at once, the wonder in her voice unable to hide itself.

Blake chuckles.

“Definitely.”

Her heart softens in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time while she nods. His arms come around her again as he softly nudges her for an answer.

“ _Please_.” She croaks out. “Take me home.”

±

She’s enjoying the soft feel of his covers on her body, the way the bed dips when he gets in it making her smile innocently. 

She immediately turns to face him, seeking his closeness like she’s starving for it. She gets momentarily insecure that he might find it too much and pull away, but he does the opposite. 

His arm sneaks around her, his hand squeezing her naked spine. 

His hand always finds its way underneath any shirt or dress she’s wearing, determined to touch soft and bare skin, never settling for anything less.  
  
The large master bedroom feels strangely warm, much like Blake. She can tell he misses the backwoods living he grew up on by how all the colours in his room reflect earthy tones and the large pine bed looks out over a huge fire place.   
  
She closes her eyes when Blake pulls her even closer underneath the covers, his hand still touching the skin on her back.   
  
“I missed you.” She whispers again.  
  
“I missed you too darlin’.” He says in a low voice, the crack in his words not going unnoticed.   
  
She opens her eyes to find him already staring at her, emotion seemingly overtaking him too. She realizes they both probably didn’t expect to be here again; holding each other in bed, staring each other down.   
  
She wants to close the final bit of distance between them, but she still feels like she’s walking on a tightrope, not wanting to make the wrong move. Blake seems to read her mind with ease, shaking his head before chuckling breathily.  
  
“ _Gwen_.”  
  
She hums quietly.  
  
“Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need any more prompting; her hand cups his cheek while she softly lets her lips press against his own. He feels warm and soft against her, the scruff of his beard providing a delicious sensation of its own. 

His hands gently tangle in her hair, his teeth nibbling on her lower lip, pulling it slightly. 

She moans lowly in her throat at the intimate and passionate way he holds her mouth hostage. When he’s not kissing her, he’s licking her lips or nibbling on them, giving her zero time to regain her bearings.

His hand slides down to the curve of her ass, pressing her against him more forcefully. 

“You’re killing me.” She whispers, bucking her hips into him and gasping when she makes contact with his very aroused member.

“It’s what you get for being so damn irresistible.” He murmurs, kissing her again. 

She pulls away, sighing against his chin. Her finger continues to softly glide along his jaw.

“Why didn’t you want to kiss me on the couch earlier?” 

She looks up at him through her lashes, remembering his face as he gently kissed her cheek, while she tried to start a make out session on the large leather sofa.

There’s a soft smile that graces his features now, his hand continuing to hold her close.

“Because you were overwhelmed by what you saw tonight and I didn’t want you to try and distract yourself. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, and it’s okay to take some time to talk about it.”

She lets out a heavy exhale.

“I’ve never been in a house like this.”

He nods softly. “I know.”

“I wasn’t trying to distract myself though.” She whispers. “I was trying to show you that even though I was overwhelmed for a second, I wasn’t going to push you away again.”

“You wanted to show me that by making out?”

“Isn’t that the most obvious sign I can give you?” 

He chuckles. “As much as I love making out with you, I think sometimes I’m just gonna need your _words_.”

She swallows roughly and nods.

“I really like this place.”

Blake smiles proudly. “Yeah? You don’t think it’s too much? Too big?”

She shakes her head. “I thought I might feel that way, but it all feels very you. It’s really beautiful. It’s exactly what I picture when I hear the word _home_.”

He kisses the top of her head.

“Good.” He says. “Because this _is_ your home, Gwen. I want you to really feel that.”

She lowers her head to his shoulder, shooting a silent _thank you_ to the man upstairs that she’s still able to call this gorgeous man hers. 

“How could I have almost given you up?” She whispers, feeling her eyes burn. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“Gwen, hey, don’t do that.” He urges her softly, his hand cupping her cheek. “We’re okay.”

A tear slides down her face and she’s frustrated when she realizes she’s not yet cried out. 

“I just can’t believe I came that close to losing you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Blake. You’re so gentle with me, so sweet, and most of the time I don’t even understand why.”

“What do you think you deserve then?” He asks gently, finger swiping away another tear.

“Not this.” She whispers.

“That’s not really an answer, darlin’.”

“I would’ve expected you to yell at me after what I did.”

“And then what?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Blake. You’re always so gentle with me, even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Would you like me to _not_ be gentle with you?” 

“This isn’t about what I want.”

“It always is.” He responds simply. “You’re telling me it’s strange for you how I treat you gently, so that makes me think you’re not used to it. I mean, I know you’re not. But what do you want? I want to know how you _want_ to be treated.”

“Like this.” She admits softly, blushing when she catches him staring down at her. “I like the way you treat me. I like knowing you don’t get off on hurting me.”

“I don’t. The thought of hurting you actually rips me apart and that’s why I’m so determined about us both making some changes. I want us to work out, Gwen. More than you could possibly know.”

“Me too.” She whispers. “I don’t ever want you to get sick of me.”

“Impossible.” He retorts confidently. “Look, we’ve both been hurt in the past, we’re both a little bit insecure...” Gwen’s brow raises, causing Blake to chuckle. “.... Okay, a _whole_ _lot_ insecure. But we’re healing together and that’s all we can do, right?”

Gwen nods softly, craning her neck up so she can plant another soft kiss on him. 

“Yeah.” She murmurs sweetly. “God, I never want to stop kissing you.”

There’s a brief silence before Blake starts to quietly chuckle, turning her onto her back and hovering above her. 

“Yeah? Is that how you’re feeling?”

Gwen laughs breathily at his teasing tone, biting her lip.

“ _Yes_.”

He dips down to kiss her cheek, trailing his lips along her entire jawline.

“Blake.” She moans, hands gripping his back. 

“What’s the matter honey? I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

She huffs impatiently, her hips softly thrusting up at him. 

“On the mouth.” She specifies, closing her eyes when he nips at her collarbone. 

He hums as if he’s thinking it over, nuzzling her neck.

“But what if I really want to kiss you someplace else?”

Her whole body starts overheating instantly, her hands tightening around him. 

“Please don’t tease me.”

The sound of his chuckle tells her he’s planning on doing exactly that, his body suddenly lowering down the bed. 

She’s already too far gone by the time he settles between her thighs and lowers her sleeping shorts down her legs. 

“Oh my god.” She whimpers, already affected by him without his mouth on her. 

He kisses her inner thigh softly in response. It shouldn’t be possible for anyone to be _this_ tender, but he always is.

“By the way babe...” His finger trails up her thigh until he’s softly brushing her slick folds. “I don’t ever want to stop kissing you either.”

When his tongue darts out to touch her there, she lets her eyes slip close and her hands wander to the back of his head in nothing but pure gratitude. 


	23. I'm Burning Up Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who loved this story from the beginning and is still here. These babies have come such a long way and it's been the most fun to write. Only one more chapter left after this. Here we go

“This is a terrible idea.” She whispers, clinging to his side.

“Why?” He asks, holding her hand tightly while supporting her up the stairs.

She had insisted on wearing those six-inch heels that seem almost impossible to walk on, but he’d be stupid to try and talk her out of it. He knew her stress levels for this dinner are incredibly high and she needs to do whatever she can to feel comfortable. If dressing up does that for her, he won’t be the one to stop her.

“I’m not like her.” She says softly, catching his gaze. “What are they gonna think of me?”

He chuckles.

“They’re gonna think I’m the luckiest man for getting you to spend time with me _outside_ of the retreat.”

“This is a place for rich people.” She says with a scrunched-up nose, somehow making her more adorable. “And I’m in a one-bedroom apartment were the couch is practically in the kitchen.”

He laughs quietly, arm looping around her waist. “You can’t see us having dinner here every other Sunday?”

“Please no.” She whispers.

He laughs louder.

“They’re gonna love you.” He adds later, fingers squeezing around her hand. “Just like I do.”

He can sense her body relaxing a bit and takes the opportunity to tug her towards the main entrance.

She had spent the last few days at his house, which has felt like rediscovering each other all over again. There was something different about having her there instead of spending all their time at the lake house. It was more intimate, more real.

He had even invited his longtime friend Adam over for dinner once, introducing Gwen as his girlfriend. It was long overdue and something that they both needed to take their relationship to the next level. He couldn’t deny that the co-sign from his best friend was important to him too.

Tonight, will be a bit different though. These aren’t his friends, they’re his family. The luxurious restaurant is one he never would’ve picked for himself, but his sister and brother in law always have a way of taking it a bit too far whenever they come out to LA.

He doesn’t see his family nearly enough and didn’t have the heart to cancel on them again, like he always does. Gwen’s gentle but obvious prodding for him to go had finally resulted in him asking her along. If they’re gonna be real about this, she should be introduced to the people who made him, the people who know him best.

“ _Blake_!”

The sound of his mother’s voice immediately reaches his ears, her short frame barrelling towards him.

He smiles softly while letting go of Gwen’s hand. He wraps the older woman in his arms, catching Gwen’s soft expression as she looks at them. Dot sways a little in his arms before pulling back, her gaze falling on Gwen’s nervous one.

“Blake, who is this lady you brought and why didn’t you tell me you were bringing someone?”

He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He extends his arm out for Gwen, waiting for her to step closer, his hand sliding to her lower back.

“Mom, this is Gwen. My girlfriend.”

Gwen smiles politely, extending her hand out to the woman.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Blake has told me a lot about you.”

Dot stares at her for a few seconds before reaching her hand out too. The handshake is firm but over way too soon and Blake’s surprised about the formal meeting, knowing his mom to be the overly affectionate type with everyone.

“Very nice to meet you Gwen. I’m guessing you’re the extra seat they wouldn’t tell us about earlier.”

Gwen nods. “Thank you so much for allowing me to tag along, I know this was supposed to be a family dinner.”

“Apparently, Blake decided _against_ that idea.”

“Mom.”

Dot glares at him before making her way back to the table, seemingly getting told something by Blake’s stepdad.

Gwen leans into him, her voice soft and panicky. “I told you this was a bad idea; she _hates_ that I’m here.”

Blake turns to look at her, his hand rubbing her arm.

“She’s upset with me for not telling her or for not coming to see her enough. Whatever the reason, it has nothing to do with you. Trust me.”

“I could still leave.” She says, and he can hear by the tone of her voice she’s only a few seconds away from making good on that offer.

He grabs her hand gently yet tightly, and tugs her towards the two remaining seats.

“This is a dinner for my loved ones….” He says confidently, pulling her chair out. “You’re _exactly_ where you need to be.”

±

Where there were nerves before, he can now see mostly enjoyment.

She talks enthusiastically with her hands, talking about her passions while leaning slightly into him when she’s in need of some familiarity. He had never seen one of his girlfriend’s take to his family so easily, so quickly—and vice versa.

It almost makes him forget about his mother’s stoic demeanour to both him _and_ Gwen.

“You grew up here?” He hears his sister ask.

Gwen nods. “Born and raised. Blake actually talked about taking me to Oklahoma one of these days which would be the first time I ever leave California.”

Endy’s eyes widen. “Oh my God, you should totally come over there. It’s such a different world, but it’s something you need to experience.”

He watches her bite her lip, her doe eyes seeking out his.

“I hope you were serious about the offer because your sister just told me it’s necessary.” She half jokes, and it’s that underlying insecurity about his offer might not being sincere that gets him the most.

His hand slides up her leg, squeezing her knee.

“As soon as our schedules allow it, I’m taking you out of here.” He promises for everyone to hear, her soft smile warming up every place that had gone cold for way too long inside him.

He decides to ignore his mother’s scoff as soon as the words escape his mouth, his eyes the only thing directing itself towards her.

“You really never left this place?” Ethan asks, the friend of his late-brother sitting across from them. Blake’s grateful for his presence as it feels like the closest thing he’s got left of his brother, a substitute family member who’s never shown him anything but respect.

“I never really had the money.” Gwen admits, her features dropping to something more nervous.

“Neither did we before this guy made it.” Endy says, smiling widely. “Don’t get scared around us, Gwen. There’s absolutely no need.”

“Thank you.” Gwen casts her eyes down, her voice dropping to an embarrassed whisper.

“You met Blake at the lake house?” Ethan asks next, getting a grateful smile from Gwen in return when she realizes he’s changing the subject.

“Yeah, I know it probably doesn’t sound like the most _ideal_ place to meet someone considering….” Her voice trails off, and Blake realizes she’s falling deep into the rabbit hole of her insecurities again.

“She has a way of downplaying herself for some reason.” Blake chimes in, his hand sliding up her arm and rests on the back of her neck. “She might’ve been the one to come in there in hopes of learning something, but I’m the one who got taught the most.”

“You look happy.” His sister exclaims, smiling. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this actually.”

“I _am_ happy.” Blake responds, smiling down at Gwen when she meets his gaze, blushing a little.

“We’re happy you’re here, Gwen.” Endy says. “I know it must feel a bit weird to be here, especially considering the media frenzy that surrounds this guy…” She points at Blake unapologetically. “But we want you to feel safe here. We always had a feeling about Aubrey…. sorry Blake. She wasn’t a good person and though I’ve only met you once, you already give off such a different vibe.”

Gwen bites her lip. “I never intended for this to become what it has, but meeting Blake has changed my life in every way possible. I really care about your brother, so much.”

Endy’s face turns softer than Blake has seen it in a long time.

“I can tell. He’s lucky, don’t let him forget it.”

“No way I’m forgetting that ever.” Blake smiles, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Their conversation gets momentarily halted when the waitress comes to pick up their empty plates, filling up their glasses for another round.

“I’m okay, thank you so much.” Gwen says softly, interrupting the older woman before she can pour her another glass. Blake looks at her gently, his surprised expression causing Gwen to elaborate soon after. “I just wanna be clear-headed for my interview tomorrow.”

A surge of relief and happiness washes over him at the change in her attitude, her soft smile letting him know she’s aware of what he’s feeling.

Blake leans into her, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you so much.”

“ _Yeah_?” She whispers in that girly voice that drives him nuts.

He doesn’t even care about the display of affection in front of his family, his hand gently tugging her face closer.

“ _Yeah_.” He whispers before quickly pecking her lips.

“Loverboy, how about you make a toast?” Endy interrupts, sticking her tongue out.

Blake rolls his eyes as Gwen sits back bashfully.

“Sure.” He says, pretending to be annoyed. “I would like to bring out a toast to everyone here; to a rough year that’s about to end and the loss of some loved ones. It only makes me more grateful for the people who are still here. To everyone at this table, I love you. Here’s to many more years and memories.”

His family raises their glasses. “Cheers to that.”

He watches as Gwen raises her glass of water, a soft expression on her face. Blake can’t help but add a few more words to his toast.

“I would also like to thank Gwen for teaching me what real hope means. Here’s to many more years and memories, baby.”

Gwen’s eyes grow a bit watery as she swallows roughly.

“Cheers to that, Blakey.”

“You totally softened him up.” His brother-in-law exclaims with a laugh, causing the rest to join in. “It’s a good look on you man.”

“I can’t wait to have you visit us in Oklahoma.” Endy adds. “It’s going to be such a great time.”

“I get it, okay? I need to get her out of here sooner rather than later.” Blake smiles.

“I can’t wait for Blake to take me there either.” Gwen says softly.

His mother scoffs.

“Good luck with that.”

The rest of the table falls quiet while Gwen’s stuck looking at his mother with a horrified expression on her face.

“Mom, that’s _enough_.” Blake says through gritted teeth.

“No _this_ is enough.” Dot exclaims loudly, staring directly at him. “What’s this, huh? You ignore your family for months and when you finally call and arrange for this dinner, it’s just so you can parade this California _doll_ around?”

“Mom!” Endy mummers horrified.

“Uhm I can…. I should…” Gwen makes a move to get up but Blake stops her with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Stay, darling.”

“Of course... _stay_.” His mother says sarcastically. “Why would you care about Blake abandoning his family; for all we know you’re the reason he barely ever calls.”

The sound of his hand colliding with the top of the table is loud, the screeching sound of his chair sliding back across the floor is equally as prominent.

“Hallway. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply from his mom, as he knows her well enough to know she won’t avoid any confrontation. He knows he’s got to get his anger under control quickly if he wants to get anywhere with this conversation. The look on Gwen’s face when she heard his mother’s outburst gutted him on the spot.

He hasn’t been in the hallway for more than ten seconds when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns around swiftly, glaring down at the angry face of his mother.

“If you have anything to say to me that’s fine.” He tells her immediately. “But I won’t sit back and let you be rude to Gwen. She has nothing to do with this.”

“How would I know?” She shoots back. “You don’t call, you don’t visit.”

“I was in Oklahoma a few months ago.”

“And all you did was call once.” She states matter of factly. “I know you’re busy and I know you’ve been going through a lot, but we’re your family. God damnit Blake, we had to find out about the state of your marriage through the _media_.”

Blake rubs a hand over his mouth.

“I’m sorry about that, I really am. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, but things got really messy and I had to do what I could to protect someone I love.”

“ _Gwen_.” Dot whispers.

He nods. “She was really nervous about meeting you and you’ve totally proved all her fears right tonight.”

“You could’ve told me she was coming.”

“I thought you’d enjoy seeing me happy for the first time in years.” He retorts. “I didn’t think the how would matter to you. I mean, you’re the woman who welcomed Aubrey with open arms even though she showed up two hours late to Christmas dinner. Why don’t you show Gwen the same courtesy?”

“I see the things they say about you in the news…” Dot sighs, shaking her head. “That’s not you, Blake. That’s not the man I know.”

“That’s because they lie, it’s what they do.”

“You cheated on your wife.”

“Ex-wife.” Blake corrects. “I did something I’m not proud of, but the story you’re getting through the news isn’t the full one. Besides, my mistakes are mine. Gwen shouldn’t be punished for them.”

“How do you think this will work, Blake?” She asks exasperatedly, eyes teary. “She’s your _artist_. She’s younger than you. People will always frown upon it.”

He swallows roughly. “Weren’t you the one who taught me love was always worth the risk? I didn’t intend to fall for her, but she’s been the one thing keeping me afloat for months. Meeting her felt like coming home and I couldn’t just ignore that.”

“Blake….”

“I love her mom.” His voice strains under the emotion he feels. “I don’t know how everything will go yet but I know whatever happens will be worth it. _She_ is worth it.”

He’s surprised to say the least when his mom walks forward and presses him into a hug. His arms reluctantly come around her, much like it did at the beginning of the evening.

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs. “I will apologize to Gwen. She didn’t deserve that.”

Blake sighs softly. “Thank you.” He feels his mom nod in their embrace. “I’m sorry too, I know I should’ve been there more. I got wrapped up in my life out here and ignored the one I had back home, and everyone else in it.”

“I’m your mom, sweetheart. I worry like hell when you’re out here, no matter how successful you are.”

Blake smiles sadly. “I know.”

She pulls back, looking up at him. “I _am_ happy that you’re happy. Your sister is right; you can see it on your face. If she’s the one who’s causing that look, I will embrace her with open arms.”

“Thank you.”

Dot cups his cheeks, smiling ruefully.

“Talking about your sister, I’m pretty sure she’s having a field day subjecting your girlfriend to all kinds of awkward questions right now.”

Blake chuckles. “We should really get back in there.”

His mom lets go of him, nodding in agreement.

He knows there’s a lot he still has to make up for when it comes to his family, and the media will continue to pester him as long as he and Gwen are a thing, but for the first time in a long time he’s hopeful about it all.

It might not always be easy, but it will be worth it.

±

Blake’s arm slides around her back as they stand on the sidewalk, his family on either side of them. The air is significantly colder than it was when they first entered the restaurant, the wait for their Uber taking longer than expected.

He takes off his jacket when he catches Gwen shivering once, draping it over her shoulder and smiling at her grateful expression.

“Gwen, promise us that you’ll come hang out with us again soon.” Endy tells her, standing in front of them with a wide smile.

He can’t begin to unpack the emotion he feels as Gwen is so easily enamouring everyone in his family, especially his sister.

Gwen nods, feeling comfortable enough to initiate a hug from Endy.

“I promise.”

He watches Endy and Gwen exchange numbers before he feels a hand tap his shoulder. He turns to find his friend Ethan next to him, momentarily letting go of Gwen.

“I’m afraid the vultures found you.” Ethan speaks quietly, nearly wincing as the words leave his mouth.

Blake looks across the street to find a few flashing lights going off, cursing under his breath. He looks to his right to gauge Gwen’s reaction but the sight in front of him stuns him more than the paparazzi across the street.

Gwen’s talking to his mom, Dot’s hand sweetly squeezing her arm. He doesn’t have the heart to break it up yet, definitely not for that reason.

He looks back at Ethan with a faint smile. “I think it’s too late to try and sneak out now.”

“I’m sorry this is the way things have to be, man.”

Ethan has always been a grounded, simple man. Blake knows that the life he lives is the furthest thing removed from what Ethan would want to live. Sometimes he can’t find it within him to argue with his friend. Some days he passionately agrees with him even.

The sight of Gwen and his mom talking it up though makes him feel strangely okay with the situation. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world, not even with the sudden appearance of paparazzi down the street.

Blake’s hand squeezes Ethan’s shoulder.

“I can choose to be upset about those assholes over there, _or_ ….” He emphasizes the last word, nudging his head towards Gwen. “I could be focusing on that image right there and let it fill me with the most joy.”

Ethan nods.

“Nice choice. You know your mom didn’t actually mean those things she said to Gwen, right?”

Blake inhales sharply. “I know. It’s just that she’s insecure, you know? I really hoped she wouldn’t have to go through anything like that with her.”

“No one expected Dot to come out the gate swinging like that.”

Blake chuckles. “No, we most certainly did not.”

“Looks like they made up though.” Ethan exclaims, Blake’s eyes nearly popping out of his head as he watches Gwen and Dot hug it out for a few seconds, his mom even appearing to wipe a few tears from her face.

“Should I— “

“—You should just stay here with me and let it happen.” His friend laughs, keeping him nailed to the spot.

His heart starts beating a little faster when Gwen turns around to meet his gaze, wrapping his jacket tighter around her as she walks closer. His mother is right behind her and Blake smiles awkwardly when they both stand in front of him.

“Everything okay?” He asks nervously.

“Yes, everything’s great.” Gwen smiles, walking into his chest while wrapping her arms around his midsection.

He’s surprised by the sudden display of affection, but he doesn’t mind it one bit. He wraps his arms around her while looking at his mother.

“She’s a good one, Blake.” Dot says sweetly, pinking away another tear. “Do us all a favor and keep her around, will you?”

Gwen meets his gaze again, pulling away reluctantly though she stays close to him.

“That’s the goal.” Blake answers, hugging his mom one more time before the car pulls up.

He waits for his family to say their goodbyes and get into the two different cars before he turns to Gwen again, finally alone with her.

“I have _so_ many questions.” He tells her, laughing quietly under his breath.

She giggles before her face drops, her expression going from excited to nervous and Blake’s immediately alarmed.

“Oh my god, they found us.” She whispers, out of habit taking a few steps away from him as she makes out the paparazzi close by.

Her immediate panic makes him feel bad for hiding it from her in the first place, but his hand still reaches out for her. “Gwen, it’s okay. Let them take their pictures.”

She shakes her head, her gaze going to his hand on her arm. “Blake, the media will go crazy, they will vilify you even more.”

“We said we’d stop hiding.” He says calmly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ears. “This is me making good on that promise. Plus, the rumours were already out there, it's nothing new.”

She lets him touch her gently for a few seconds, before her nervous gaze looks up at him. “Did you spot them already?”

He doesn't even think about lying to her, though he's rightfully nervous to let her in on the truth. 

Blake swallows, nodding. “Yeah, few minutes ago.”

He watches her inhale a shaky breath, stepping away from him again.

“Can we get into the car, please?”

His heart drops at the sudden change of events, her reaction partially expected but somehow still making him feel bewildered.

He doesn’t know exactly what to do, but he figures making a scene in front of the media would be the last thing on that list. He guides her towards their car, holding the door open for her. He tries to read her expression as she slides past him and forces herself down the backseat, her eyes staring warily out of the window.

He closes the door and slides in next to her, politely greeting their driver and requesting for the partition to be rolled up, before turning his attention back to Gwen.

“Baby.”

She shudders out another breath. “I know we talked about it, but this is going to be _so_ bad, Blake. I have an interview tomorrow; this is going to be all they want to talk about and I don’t even have an album out or anything to distract them with.”

He’s surprised to hear her sudden concerns, the ache in his chest growing.

“We knew there was a chance they’d be here when we agreed on going out.”

“But I didn’t expect for us to basically give them a free show, Blake.” Gwen shoots back, meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t have run into your arms and instigated that level of physical touch. You should’ve told me and gotten us out of there when you spotted them.”

“You were talking to my mom, Gwen.” He responds. “I thought that would be more important.”

She appears to feel guilty for a second, her eyes getting watery. He slides his hand over to her leg, squeezing softly.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says.

She bites her lip, a tear gliding down her cheek.

“They’re gonna me a homewrecker.” She whispers. “Or maybe a gold-digger, opportunist, hell they probably think the only reason I’m with you is because you’ll give me my big break.”

“They won’t do that.” Blake says breathily, the words stinging badly.

“They will.” She sniffs. “They do it to _every_ woman. And in this case, they wouldn’t even be completely wrong—about the homewrecker part at least.”

Blake winces, surprising her when he grabs her hips and forcefully pulls her closer to him. She gasps softly, her eyes wide as she looks up at his face.

“First of all, I wish they’d just completely retire that word.” He shakes his head, trying to get a grip on his thoughts, knowing he needs to be articulate in this moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of your interview tomorrow as a reason to cut that moment short. But baby, none of those things you just said are true and you gotta know that. You didn’t _wreck_ anything.”

“You were married before you met me.”

“You can’t break something that was already broken.” He responds immediately, confidently. “You didn’t wreck my marriage, because it was already in shambles when we met. The only people who carry any blame for what happened between Aubrey and I, are she and I.”

Gwen closes her eyes as his finger reaches out to wipe away a tear from her cheek.

“They might not see it that way.”

“The media?” Blake asks, causing Gwen to nod softly. “Well, you were wrong about another thing just now.”

She opens her eyes again. “What do you mean?”

“You have _enough_ to distract them with.” He explains. “You have your talent, Gwen. That’s plenty of ammunition to get them to talk about something else. You just have to believe in it as much as I do.”

Gwen appears bashful as she allows herself to rest her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I got upset with you.” She whispers.

“You’ve been through one hell of a stressful night.” He says softly, kissing the top of her head. “Between my mom and now this…”

“Your mom and I made up by the way.” She says sweetly.

Blake chuckles at her stating the obvious, squeezing her against him.

“About that, I’m gonna need you to tell me what she told you before you two started hugging it out.”

Gwen chuckles. “She told me she was sorry. That she didn’t mean to get so snappy with me, that she just missed you but she could tell you were much happier than the last time she saw you.”

Blake smiles. “She’s right about that.”

“She also told me that when you _do_ take me to Oklahoma one of these days, we need to come by and she’ll make her famous tortilla dip and _Yellowhammer_?”

Blake snorts. “Yeah, you should _not_ let her make you one of those.”

Gwen’s interest seems to be peaked and he laughs at her sudden change of demeanour.

“Is it a drink?”

He nods. “A bad one.”

She squints her eyes. “Bad as in….?”

“Bad as in you keep drinking them cause she keeps feeding you ‘em and it isn’t until you’re a few drinks down that you realize you’re gonna have a real bad morning.”

“And why do you keep drinking them if you don’t like them?” She teases him.

“You’ve met her…” He says. “My mom can be really persuasive.”

Her eyes darken, her hand sliding up his chest.

“Hmmm. You think I can persuade you into some backseat loving right now, Blakey?”

He hadn’t even been able to process the question yet before she pushes him backwards and settles herself on top of him, both knees astride his lap and settling against his thighs.

“Gwen…” He groans when she palms his dick through his jeans, causing his eyes to roll back momentarily. “I know he might not be able to see, but I don’t know how soundproof those things are…”

He couldn’t help but to slip his hand beneath Gwen’s dress and clutch shakily at her waist when her kisses went from his jaw to his neck, and back to his ear.

“So try to keep me quiet, cowboy.”

“ _Goddamnit_.” He groans.

In a matter of seconds, Gwen has her dress hiked up enough to make herself comfortable on top of him yet not enough to really reveal much, which he’s painfully frustrated about.

He watches as her hand disappears between her own legs briefly, seemingly tugging her underwear down her legs as she ruts against him.

Her mouth lowers to his lips once more. “Fuck me.”

Part of him wants more for her than a quick fuck in the back of a car, after having the stressful and eventful night they’ve had, but he can barely think straight with the dirty grind of her hips and soft and wet kisses she’s trailing up his jaw and throat.

He slips a hand between her spread legs, working his fingers over her most sensitive area, catching a soft cry in his mouth when he easily finds her clit and rubs it. She rolls back against his fingers, subconsciously searching out for the feeling of him inside of her, in whatever way that might be.

“Do it.” She whispers in encouragement, her voice hoarse from arousal.

He slides two fingers right up inside her, revelling in how wet and tight she is. He keeps the pace slow and deliberate, her soft breaths mingling with his groans. He can tell she’s about to get herself off by the way she’s moving her hips, getting him to slide even deeper inside of her.

He keeps her hips still with his free hand, wanting her to fall apart on _his_ terms.

“I wanna watch you.” He says, quickening the pace only for a second, before slowing it back down again. “I wanna watch you twist and arch while you come for me.”

“ _Fuck_.” She gasps, her hands tightening on his shoulders.

He chuckles lowly when she lowers her head to his, seemingly struggling to draw in her next breath, her lips slightly parted.

“God, you’re so gorgeous like this, Gwen.” He drawls, picking up the pace again, biting down lightly on her bottom lip. “Show me how pretty you are when you fall apart, baby. Come for me.”

She whimpers before he feels her body get tight, her back arching on top of him as she rides out her climax. Her hips move in quick circles as she bites her lip hard, trying to contain most of her sounds. He pulls her down to him in the next moment, crashing his lips onto hers—partially to muffle her, partially because he just couldn’t stand not kissing her after watching her fall apart like that.

“Oh my god.” She whispers, gasping.

She settles down against him after a few minutes, his jeans uncomfortably tight, but the sight of her so blissed out completely worth it.

“You are amazing.” He says softly, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t you want to…?”

He smiles.

“When we get home.” He promises lowly. “I want you on a bed. And I want to take my time.”

She hums. “You always do.”

And she wouldn't have it any other way.


	24. Between Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this story up until this point and is still on board. I told you these two would get their happy ending and I meant it. I have so many more ideas twirling around in this head of mine and one coming very soon (credit goes to Bea, thanks for another gem). 
> 
> To Alma, @someheartslove, Val & Kate — thanks for all the love and support not just here but on Twitter also. I’m forever grateful. 
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear everyone’s thoughts on it afterwards, but don't feel obligated. I hope reading this story was as fun for you guys as it was for me to write.
> 
> So long.

* * *

_December_

Her interview with Rolling Stone was a set-in stone fact.

She always knew the impact of words. She knew it from as early as six years old, when she first got placed in the care of Child Protected Service’s. She still remembers the words the woman spoke as she took her from the only home she’d ever known, into the care of strangers. Words took on a different meaning when she turned fourteen and ran away from her turbulent and often abusive foster home. Words had gotten her into the bar that allowed her to sing and perform every week for fifteen minutes, and they had gotten her into bed with the bar owner all the same. Words broke her and Tony up, as they could no longer ignore the magnitude of trauma and insecurities they caused. Words eventually got her Blake’s attention. The one who took a chance on a seemingly broken girl, and gave her the opportunity to blossom and show the world what she’s capable of.

Words are now the very thing that are captivating the world, as she managed to steer the narrative of the interview. Things hadn’t all been sunshine and roses for her or her career, and she hadn’t expected anything less. What she didn’t expect however, was the reaction to her magazine spread. The reaction to her _words_.

She figured people would be mad when she told the world she never intended to be more than a name on a musical bar line-up. She never wanted fame as much as she just wanted to perform and write. She didn’t think people would understand when she told the world she didn’t want to talk about her love life, because she had so many more things she wanted them to focus on. She didn’t expect the interviewer to rattle off a few questions about Blake, but all of them about the start of their _professional_ relationship instead of the one they started speculating about in the media. The interview propelled her from a wanna-be entertainer into a bona fide star.

The world finally started to notice her for everything she was, instead of everything she could be. Her words finally reached the masses and for the first time in her life, she was sure about what she wanted to say.

Her next single was released strategically after the interview got released. Ex-Girlfriend was the first song she worked on that didn’t involve Blake. Where she thought he might be feeling a little left behind, he proved to feel the opposite. He was proud, encouraging even, about her venturing out and trying different things. She realized that his words were matching his actions and his own beliefs about her, ones he’s harboured from the very start; she would be a star and he’d do everything he could to make that happen.

Now, she’s sitting in her parked car, listening to the radio as the host introduces her second single. Her heart is beating fast inside her chest, her fingers tapping Blake’s name in her phone and letting it ring a few times. He answers immediately and she smiles because he knows exactly why she’s calling. He simply tells her to put him on speaker phone and stays quiet after that.

When the radio channel finally plays Ex-Girlfriend, she can’t help but let out a yelp. Her hand triumphantly beats against the steering wheel, her sultry voice singing along to her own voice coming out of the car’s speakers. When she hears the hum of Blake’s voice quietly singing along, she’s absolutely convinced that nothing could ever be more powerful than the journey her words have taken on.

From being unheard, to this moment right here.

±

_February_

The blankets are pushed back on his side but everything else appears untouched. Everything is just the way they left it last night before tumbling into bed for three rounds of lovemaking that would probably be considered reckless as they’re staying over at Blake’s mother’s house.

She can’t get herself to care too much, not when she wakes up to Blake’s naked body next to her, his face and features content and relaxed. The bright light from outside makes its way through the edges of the curtains, and her heart flutters at the sound of birds singing outside her window.

Gwen decides not to wake him as she carefully slips out of the bed. The floor is cold against her bare feet and she immediately grabs a pair of socks and makes herself presentable to go downstairs. Dot has been up for a while, Gwen has heard rummaging in the kitchen for as long as she’s been lying awake, looking at Blake as he slept. After the dinner they all had a few months ago, he had made more of an effort to check in with his family. Gwen knows that it’s been months, maybe even _years_ , since Blake actually stayed at his mom’s for a few nights. It had meant the world to her when Dot asked her to join them.

“Look who’s up.” Dot says immediately as her eyes take in her frame, two strong arms wrapping her up. “Good morning, sweetheart. Where’s Blake?”

She smiles. “Still out like a light.”

“That man works too hard.” His mother scoffs, turning back around to finish breakfast.

Gwen bites her lip, knowing that she might have a bit more to do with Blake’s fatigue than she wants his mother to know about.

“Endy is coming over tonight for dinner.” Dot tells her, smiling. “I thought that would be nice for you to hear.”

Gwen and Endy had become significantly close, texting and calling a lot. She is genuinely happy to hear the woman is coming over tonight; it makes her a lot less nervous for another dinner with Blake’s family.

She smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.” She takes a seat at the kitchen counter, taking in the normalcy of it all. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh honey, don’t you dare!” Dot chuckles, shaking her head. “Just keep me company, that’s all you ever gotta do. Blake too.”

At the mention of Blake’s name, he appears in the doorway, his sleepy features tugging at Gwen’s heartstrings. The moment he catches her gaze, his smile widens and he walks forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” She whispers, biting her lip as his beard tickles her throat.

“Happy Valentine’s, baby.”

Gwen smiles, not remembering ever spending a Valentine’s Day with a lover; either always single or being around the wrong guys, who didn’t give a damn. Not only did Blake want to spend it with her, he also wanted her around his family.

“Mom, I’m gonna have to whisk her away after breakfast.” He tells her, sweetly. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Gwen’s brow raises, the words unexpected. “Where are we going?”

He smirks. “It’s a surprise. Don’t worry, I know what you like.”

He winks at her and she must actively look down to not show Dot she’s blushing.

“I didn’t expect anything else.” Dot says, pointing at the empty chair at the kitchen counter. “Now sit. Breakfast’s ready.”

±

_October_

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Blake chuckles, holding her hips from behind.

“No darling, sold out completely.” She can’t see his face, but she can tell he’s beaming. “Not a single empty seat left.”

Her breath stutters out, her eyes focused on the round dress mirror. The lights are reflecting in her pupils and she feels the brightness settle down all the way to her brain.

She turns around in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck.

“Not a single one?” She whispers with a smile, wanting to see his face this time when he gives her the confirmation again.

He smirks and cups her cheeks with both hands, pressing a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Nope, none at all.” He speaks against her mouth, his hands still holding her face. “I told you this was gonna happen, didn’t I?”

“You say the craziest shit.” She giggles, biting her lip. “How was I supposed to know _this_ was actually gonna be true?”

He pretends to be offended by that, shaking his head.

“What I say is always true.” He smiles, his eyes darting down to the sparkly top she’s wearing, her leather pants hugging her hips tightly, which she is thankful for considering she’s missing Blake’s hands there.

“Will you be in the crowd?” She asks sweetly.

She knows Blake prefers to stay backstage, especially with the media having them under constant scrutiny, but she can’t help but make her request.

“I had a feeling I wasn’t gonna get away with staying backstage tonight.” He grins, sliding his hands down to her hips again, eliciting a content sigh from her throat.

“If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.” She starts to slowly backtrack, feeling bad for making the request at all.

“You like seeing my face in the crowd.” He says, almost like a reminder to her.

“I do.”

He smiles. “Then my face you will see in the crowd.”

Her hands move to the back of his head, her fingers toying with the hairs in his nape. “This is the biggest show I’ve ever played.”

He nods. “It is. But it won’t be the biggest you’ll ever play.”

“So much has been going on these last few months, I haven’t even been able to properly obsess over this moment. I mean I knew it was gonna happen, I was gonna play this venue, but I didn’t think I’d sell it out. Blake, that’s so crazy.”

He looks at her like _she_ is and it confuses her for a moment.

He chuckles when he notices her confusion, kissing her again. “I think the only person who didn’t see this coming was you.”

She feels bashful suddenly.

“Maybe.” She says, pouting.

“But I do agree that things have been kinda crazy for you.” He responds. “No one can blame you for not spending the whole time obsessing over this show.”

Her debut album had come out two months ago, a year after leaving the retreat. She had spent so much time in the studio with Blake, she’s proud to say it brought them even closer instead of pushing them apart. The world had seemingly accepted her as rock’s new _it_ girl and though the adjustment to the lifestyle was a hard one, she’s now happy to say she’s pretty well settled in.

She couldn’t have done it without Blake’s support and they both know it. But he makes sure she never forgets he has nothing to do with her talent. She would’ve always been able to be a performer, with or without him.

Gwen and Blake had one off week after the finishing of her album, going to Tennessee to attend Eli’s wedding. They had stayed at the separate cabin on his property, giving him and his new wife all the space they needed as she and Blake spent six days away from the rest of the world, with the woods as their backyard.

It felt amazing to have finished an album, one she’s about to perform, with Blake and Eli as the main producers. It’s full-circle and feels safe and familiar. They have a way of getting the most honest version of her to the surface and these songs represent the best of what she can do. She’s certain about that.

“Ready?” Her tour manager, Leslie VanHaven pops her head around the corner, phone always in hand. “Five minutes till showtime.”

She nods, grabbing Blake’s hand as she leads him down the backstage area. She’s always touched by the way Blake greets everyone as he passes by, joking around, making sure that everyone from sound engineer to stage manager feels seen and appreciated.

“You’re going to kill it.” He says as she stands side stage, the mic being pressed in her hand while things are being yelled between the professionals, making sure everything’s ready for her entrance. The cheers and whistles from the crowd are loud as they can anticipate the moment is close.

She looks back at him once more, grinning before the cue is given to head onto the stage. The first few steps feel like she’s floating, the moment not even feeling real to her yet. It’s not until the cheering gets so overwhelmingly loud, that she’s snapped out of it, facing thousands of people.

This moment _is_ in fact real and there’s nothing more energizing than that.

It’s like a switch is turned in her head, and all she can think about is how she can entertain these people. The very people who gave her this career, the ones who gave her a purpose and remind her every day not to give up on it.

Her eyes don’t take very long to spot Blake out in the front row, his head bopping along to the music, his eyes never taken off her. It’s a surreal moment for sure, but she tries not to let it deter her. Everything she worked so hard for is paying off now and Blake’s presence here, in the same way he’s been there for every show, is exactly what she needs to ground herself in the midst of all the craziness.

“This is a song I wrote with Blake Shelton.” She informs the crowd next, an eruption of cheers hitting her ears at the mention of the handsome exec. “It’s called _Excuse Me, Mr_.”

She’s led into the song by her band, the freedom she feels in her heart to have been able to publically shout him out, no longer having to live in fear or hide, makes her nearly choke up.

Some people still don’t quite understand or condone their relationship, even when the specific details of it have never come out, but she’s learned that the only times it could truly hurt her career is if she lets it.

Blake was right about another thing; she _does_ have enough to distract people with when the noise gets too loud.

It’s the very thing she’s doing now, and it has the crowd eating out of the palm of her hands—including Blake.

±

_November_

The house is a mixture of wood, steel and glass, eyeing incredibly modern without losing the old-school touch she loved so much. It stands amidst the manicured lawn, and she realizes it’s the first time she’s ever rented a place with a lawn and large porch. 

The door to her new place opens, her eyes still not used to taking in the new home. 

“Is this really happening?” She asks to no one, her voice struck with awe. 

“You deserve it.” Blake’s voice pipes up behind her. 

“I can’t believe I went from a shoebox to _this_...” Her mouth opens slightly. “I know it barely holds a candle to your place but— “

“Shhh, don’t even go there.” He interrupts her, wrapping his arms around her midsection as he joins her in staring at the modern kitchen. “It’s beautiful and you worked your ass of for this.”

She sighs deeply, contently. “I did work hard for this, didn’t I?”

He hums. “And it’s yours. You earned this.”

“Can you believe how one year ago I was broke as shit, unable to take you out for dinner and pay my rent at the same time?”

He chuckles.

“Good. You shouldn’t pay for my dinner.”

She slaps his arm. “Blake, I’m serious.”

“I know baby. I told you it would turn around for you. I know you couldn’t quite see it, but this was always supposed to happen for you.”

She smiles. “Wanna move to the couch and just cuddle?”

His lips curve up.

“That sounds perfect, darlin’”

Gwen leads him towards the main room, her legs directing them to the couch when his hand stops her. 

“How about we do this right, huh?” 

She cocks her head at him, unsure of what he means. 

When he lowers himself onto the carpet in _front_ of the couch, she almost starts crying. 

He pats the space next to him. She wastes no time sitting down next to him, her hand squeezing his leg. 

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She whispers, getting emotional. “I know I just played a show but it was clear people couldn’t stop looking at _you_ , and I just can’t believe you go home with _me_ , you know?” 

Blake appears genuinely surprised at her words.

“What are you talking about?” He chuckles. “All people were talking about was you.”

She knows Blake can read her like a book and though she didn’t mean for it to come through right now, her insecurities pool at the surface. 

“Blake, I had the perfect view of you standing in the crowd. Women were fawning over you. _Trust me._ And I’m not worried about it having any effect or whatever, but I do sometimes wonder…. why me? _”_

He shakes his head, shifting slightly on the carpet as he adjusts his hold on her. 

“Women might throw themselves at me at a public event, but they do that because they're interested in my fame and my money. But you…. you’ve never wanted that. Even from that first day, when you came into my office trying to make your case as to why I should sign you, you treated me like a normal person. Every day, you remind me who I really am, underneath the public façade I put on. You ground me, remind me what's real, what truly matters. I'm a better person when I'm with you, Gwen."

He takes a breath and continues, changing the subject slightly. "Then there's you. You have a tremendous amount of integrity. You're dedicated and passionate, and you put every ounce of that into everything you do. You're intelligent and determined, which is why you're so good at writing songs. But at the same time, you're compassionate and empathetic, which is why you're so good with everyone around you. You're fiery and sassy, which keeps me on my toes. It's a rare combination, and you still amaze me with those qualities every day.” She looked away in an effort to fight back her tears. Blake reaches out with his finger and gently rotates her face back to meet his eyes. "Not to mention the fact that you are gorgeous." He runs his finger gently down her cheek as he speaks. "How could I ever do better than that?"

At this, Gwen loses the battle with her tears, and a couple spill down her cheek. Blake simply reaches out and gently thumbs the tears away.

She looks at him pointedly. 

“No one has ever said anything like that to me before.” She admits softly.

"Look at me." He said gently, taking her other hand. She meets his eyes through her wet ones. "I meant every word."

"I…. I don't even know what to say.” She manages.

Any walls she had left were completely gone with Blake. She was completely vulnerable, and she knew it. It still scared her, being this open in front of him, but his love throughout the months had lessened that fear each day. 

“Then don’t say anything.” He says softly, gently wiping another tear from her cheek. “We can just sit here.”

"I love you.” She says as it’s all she can manage to squeeze past the lump in her throat.

“I love you too, baby.”

When he wraps his arm around her shoulder in that way he always does, she catches his gaze and can’t help but smile.”

“What?" He smiles.

"You.” She answers simply. "I was just thinking back to that first day we met, the one you mentioned. You were so confident and a little cocky, you had this way of saying things like they were true without any evidence to back it up. Back then I’d just roll my eyes. Now when you do that, it makes me want to laugh at you and smack you simultaneously." They both laugh, his finger flicking at her cheek. "I never used to joke around with people I’ve dated. I haven't been this open and carefree since Tony left me and I tried not to become homeless, and I don't think that change would have happened without you. And I don't know how I would have made it through these last few months without you." She leans into him, resting her head against his shoulder. "I guess what I really want to say is 'thank you.'"

"For what?" Blake asks.

"For everything.” She replies. "For being you. For saying ridiculous things just to get me to smile when I'm having a bad day. For being by my side even when I say I don't want you to be. For being here now."

"You're welcome.” He says, as she snuggles into him and leans her head against the side of his chest. He rests his cheek on the top of her head, and they sit there in comfortable silence, relishing in this new chapter of _both_ their lives. 

“You wanna get up and sit on the couch?” She asks softly, silently hoping he doesn’t. She’s comfortable like this, plus it reminds her that despite so many things changing in her life, including her new and spacious home, some things haven’t changed at all.

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“No baby, I like this. It reminds me of everything I love.”

She closes her eyes with a smile.

She never imagined to find the love of her life between songs and studio time. 


End file.
